Kyminn's Road
by Raelynn Daria Mayne
Summary: To have a Gift is to have a unique responsibility. Kyminn struggles with trying to decide where that responsibility lies. As a strongly gifted Animal Healer, how best use his talents? Working to save a gravely injured Companion and his Herald sets him on a not-necessarily welcome road. (Contains descriptions of injuries, not graphic.) All rights to Mercedes Lackey.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N During the early stages of this story, I knew where Kyminn's Gifts would eventually take him. The next steps where to figure out the "how" and "why" that would get him there. Now that I have those two points pinned down, I had to go back through the canon timeline and figure out the "when." This step happened while I was writing Chapter 20 (which is why this message is repeated there!)_

 _I've been able to be very definite with respect to the "when" of this story. It takes place in the year 1371 A.F. The ruling monarch is Sendar, the King's own is Talamir (Companion Taver). In just under a year, a Companion named Kantor is going to choose a Karsite captain and turn the Herald's Collegium on their collective ears._

 **All rights to Mercedes Lackey**

 _By Raelynn Daria Mayne_

Chapter 1

 _"Spider Web moss:_

 _Season – Harvest during the spring rains, after the sleet and before the catkins fall. If the moss is brown and has a foul odor, it is past harvesting._

 _Look for it in mature forest, under fallen trees. It is often found in company with skunk cabbage and false strawberry. The moss grows very slowly, so take only one part in three and harvest every other year. The moss never returns to a spot if it has been over-gathered._

Kyminn knelt in the cold, clammy leaf mold, his numb fingers gently extracting the precious bounty. As he separated the pale green strands and folded them into his carry bag, he repeated the section on Spider Web moss to himself, reminding himself why this harvest was so important.

 _Spider Web is strongest when fresh, but can be dried for future use. Dry flat and twist into strands. Keep cool and dark._

 _Steep the Spider Web in hot water with one-part valerian root and two parts willow. Pack the cleaned wound with the hot strands of Spider Web, then bind the wound tightly. The wound will seal and the body will take the Spider Web into itself, leaving no fever behind._

There was more of course. You couldn't just stuff the moss into an open gut wound and expect it to heal, or expect torn veins to grow back together, but for deep gashes that might otherwise cause someone to bleed to death or develop wound fever, the moss saved limbs and lives. And in a timbering village like Oakden, that meant families saved from poverty.

Which was why Kyminn was kneeling in the cold, teasing it out, piece by treasured piece.

Kyminn tucked the last strands into his bag and straightened his aching back. Spine popping, he pulled out his knife and carefully added this year's mark to the tree that sheltered this clump. This year's sign was the right leg of an upright triangle. Last years had been the left leg. This tree had no triangle mark, only a weathered square. That mark was from two years before, which told Kyminn the last time this moss had been gathered. One glance to make sure everything was proper, and Kyminn headed deeper into the forest.

Count out the one strand in two, tease out the fragile web. Gather, fold, tuck away. So focused was he on his task that the insistent _scratch, scratch_ at the back of his mind went unnoticed for quite some time.

The scratch intensified, becoming a hammer at his consciousness, an urgent demand to _Run, Run! Hurry! Soonsoonsoon!_

Kyminn swallowed bile and fought with his shields, trying to keep his Gift from overwhelming his senses. Fumblingly, haltingly, he pushed it back, back and back some more, until at last he could breathe. He reached out carefully, the way his grandmother had shown him, trying to make sense of what his Gift was telling him. Instead of answers, his shields crumbled. His Foresight slammed into him again, driving him to his feet, eastward, towards the river. Harvest forgotten, he ran, flogged by his gift and a terrible fear.

Branches welted his face and arms as Kyminn plunged through the forest. _Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Run! Fastfastfast!_ The Foresight was a goad in his mind. _Falling, twisting, crushing, drowning._ Images of a place he'd never been, things he'd never felt – all of it a tangled clamour, sweeping him away from his center, his self.

He crashed to a halt in a birch grove, clinging to a tree to hold himself upright, shocked into stillness by an instant, oppressive silence. Whatever his Gift had been trying to warn him about had happened.

With a groan, he dropped to the earth, sucking in lungsful of air, grasping again at his shields, waiting, dreading what was coming.

 _PAIN!_

He battered back at the waves of pain and nausea that threatened to overwhelm him again. Somewhere, not far away, something was badly injured.

Like many Gifts, Kyminn's were capricious. He had Foresight, but only as it related to the injury of an animal. The autumn swine harvest had been a horror the first time his Gift manifested. The villagers at first thought he had gone mad when he'd started screaming incoherently during breakfast one morning.

By the time anyone could make sense of his raving, his grandmother had realized that he had some kind of Gift and that it was wildly out of control. Being a practical Healer, she'd promptly dosed him into oblivion until she could manage to shield him.

For the next few weeks, they explored the extent of his Gifts together. She herself had only a very modest Healing gift and had instead focused on her training on herb healing, bone-setting and surgery. But she knew enough to show him the basics of "ground and shield" and that stilled the clamor in his mind.

As a Healer, his Gifts were…disappointing. He had Empathy, Mindspeech, Foresight and a strong Healing gift. Just…not for people.

As far as his Gifts were concerned, people were about as interesting as a rock or a tree. His Gifts only responded to animals, and the smarter, the better. That last was a relief – although he _could_ make sparrows and other small animals Hear him, it was a strain to do so. That meant it was easy to filter out the background chatter of minds in the forest. It also meant that when a fox stalked a rabbit, his Foresight didn't torment him about the harm about to befall the hapless dinner-to-be. And while he generally took himself elsewhere during slaughtering, he was still able to enjoy a roast chicken from time to time.

As Kyminn had learned to master his gifts, he had carved out a place for himself in the village. His grandmother, long retired from active duty as a Healer, had passed her skills – if not a Gift – to her second daughter. Between them, mother and daughter cared for the village and surrounding farms. When Kyminn's Gifts appeared just before he turned twelve, he joined them as an apprentice herbalist. Now, six years later, he was a respected healer of both humans and animals.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gasping, Kyminn braced himself against a tree and thinned his shields a bit, probing into the ravine, seeking…there! The spring rains had swelled the river and undercut the bank. The resulting slide had swept tons of mud, trees and stone into the ravine. Tangled, buried in the mud was the bloody outline of a horse.

Kyminn tightened his shields against the pain pouring from the injured animal and started picking his way down the bank, looking for the rider. Unlike most tales, which seemed to have stray or wild horses conveniently at hand, Kyminn was aware reality was quite, quite different.

A horse, even an old, broken down nag, was an extremely valuable piece of property. For most farmers, horses – or similar draft beasts – were the difference between survival and starvation. Even an animal too old to work had value. Horsemeat wasn't most people's preferred meal, but no one was foolish enough to waste several hundredweight of meat. That meant that somewhere, there was a rider for this horse, one Kyminn's Gift would not show him.

It took several minutes for Kyminn to dig down to the rider. Both he and his horse were alive, but their injuries were severe. The rider had a twisted shoulder that told Kyminn the joint was separated, if not broken. Cuts and bruises abounded but little blood. Of most concern was the injuries Kyminn couldn't see – the leg and pelvis pinned under the horse.

Feet scrabbled as the horse tried to get to its – his – feet. As he did so, fresh blood stained the cruel tangle of debris. Kyminn automatically reached out with his Mindspeech to hold the horse's mind, to keep him still.

Nothing.

The silence was a jolt. As Kyminn reached out with his mind a second time, he froze at the brilliant sapphire eye that met his own.

The Companion bunched up his muscles again, trying to rise to his feet.

"Stop!" It was a scream.

Blue eyes met green.

"I know you're not a horse. I know you can understand me. You can't move. Your Herald is pinned and we have to be careful or we could kill him trying to save him. And you…" Kyminn looked at the shattered branch piercing the Companion's chest, "You're trapped too."

Kyminn didn't need Mindspeech to understand the fear, pain and urgency rolling off the Companion. He reached out again with his mind, this time his Healing gift. He carefully explored the brutal injury to the Companion's chest and battered body. He blanched at what he Saw.

"You are…very badly injured," he said, fighting to keep his tone level. "When you fell, a broken timber pierced your off shoulder and exited through your chest wall. It missed your heart, barely. But it has torn several blood vessels. If you move too quickly, you will die. In addition, your off fore leg is shattered, both in the cannon and radius. Frankly", he said bleakly, "If you were a horse, I don't know that I could save you."

The Companion pivoted his head to look for his Herald. The look in the Companion's eyes was clearly a question, and a demand.

"I think we can save him. And I will do my best to save you both. I promise."

A once white head, now filthy and red, gave a slow nod of acknowledgement.

Kyminn took a deep breath, thinned his shields and reached. There. Just so. Blocking the pain, stopping the worst of the bleeding, re-routing blood flow to crushed muscles and organs. It would have to do for now.

Eyes open, he reached again, this time it was easy, a feather light touch to a familiar mind and a dark shape circled out of the forest, settling gracefully on a nearby stone. A caw, a flip of the wings and a cock of the head drew a wan smile from Kyminn. He gently stroked the crow's head with one finger.

"This is Kel. She's a friend of mine. She's not a pet, she comes and goes as she pleases. But often it pleases her to spend time with me and, from time to time, do things for me. In return I make sure she always has enough to eat and a safe, warm place to rest."

Kyminn gently rested his hand on Kel's breast and spoke clearly and carefully. As he did, he built a picture in the bird's mind of what he wanted her to do.

 _"Go HERE (and he pictured the Healer's building in Oakden.) Strike THIS, THIS and THIS (three bells, one white, one blue, one green.) Strike until She comes (a picture of Anya, his grandmother.)_

 _"Then go HERE (the Guard station, familiar to the bird from other emergencies) and strike THIS, THIS and THIS again. (Three bells again, blue, white and green.) Lead them here._

The crow gave a bob of her head, another flip of the wings and launched, beating vigorously back towards the village.

That done, Kyminn began splinting and binding the wounds he could reach, and began clearing the mud and stone from around the crippled pair.

"Kel has helped in emergencies before and this is something we've practiced. The village and guard will know that whatever happened, it needs – or involves – a Herald, a Healer and the Guard. Basically anyone who fits that description is needed. Kel will lead the guard to us but," a pause, "they are a day away. The village will get here first, but not for some hours yet. With luck, they can free your Herald and the Guard can help free you." His voice softened as he gazed somberly at the Companion. "I'm sorry. It's going to be a difficult night. And there are no guarantees for either of you."

"How will the villagers find us?" The croaked question was little more than a whisper.

Kyminn clambered back over the growing mound of excavated debris to the Herald. He carefully tucked his oiled jacket around the injured man. "My grandmother and mother know where I was headed. They know to back track on Kel's path 'as the crow flies' to find our general direction. Once they get closer, I can use wildlife to find them and guide them, and my grandmother and I have worked together enough that her gift will let her find me."

"Derris?" The Herald reached out to touch his Companion's mud-caked shoulder, the only thing he could reach.

"Both you and your Companion are very badly injured." Grimly, honestly, Kyminn described their injuries. "We – all of us – will do our very best for both of you. Just don't give up."

"Fortunately, neither Derris nor I is very good at giving up. One of our character flaws I suppose." The Herald attempted a dry chuckle. " Does your village have a Healer?" There was hope in the question.

Kyminn busied himself with clearing debris and making the Herald as comfortable as he could. He carefully didn't meet the Herald's eyes as he answered. "Yes and no. My grandmother, Anya Bellman, trained at the Healer's Collegium. But you should know that she has a very minor Healing gift. She is very good at using it to diagnose, or to tell if a treatment is working, but it's not strong enough to do very much Healing. She is a good surgeon and bone setter, but doesn't use a Gift to heal."

"I see." The Herald let this wash over him, his face shuttered. "And you?"

Kyminn's answer much more open. "Yes and no." A wry shrug. "I am told my Healing gift is very strong. Unfortunately for you, I can't Heal people. Fortunately for Derris, I _can_ heal animals." Kyminn paused, struck by something.

"That's odd, actually. I was surprised at first when I tried to mindspeak Derris and couldn't reach him. Then I realized he is a Companion and it made sense. I can mindspeak animals…"

The Herald drew in his breath to speak, but Kyminn kept going "But Derris is not a horse."

The Herald let out his breath in a huff. "If only you knew how many times I've said that…" the Herald tried to mask a grimace, struggling to transmute it into a smile. "By the way, young not-Healer, what is your name? I'm Randen. And you've met Derris." There was an undertone that last that Kyminn couldn't quite place. It spoke of a bond more than brother, something for which there were no words.

"I'm Kyminn, Herald Randen, from Oakden. My grandmother, mother and I do for the village people and beasts when it comes to healing and such."

"And you can Heal?"

"Aye, Herald Randen. My gifts may realize that Derris is not a horse and not let me use mindspeech to speak with him, but as far as my gifts are concerned, having a horse's body means I can use my gift on him." A twisted smile. "Good thing too. My Foresight warns me when an animal is about to be badly hurt. Apparently, that includes Companions. That's how I found you."

"Ah," Randen seemed to be husbanding his strength.

Kyminn understood the unspoken question. "If you're wondering why I'm not healing Derris right now Herald, the answer is, I am. If you could See us, you'd See that he and I are linked, and I'm using a trickle of strength to control the pain and bleeding. I can go on like this for quite some time, provided nothing goes wrong. I am trying," and it was quiet, "to keep him alive long enough that we free and save you both. But until help comes, all I can do is try to keep you two alive. And wait."

"And wait." Randen nodded and his hand crept out again, seeking Derris's shoulder like a talisman of hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Waiting was not the same as idling. Kyminn started two small fires to warm the Herald and his Companion. He heated stones and rested them close to the injured, trying to stave off shock and chill from the cold ground. He scraped as much mud and grime from them as he could, helping them stay dryer and warmer. As he did, he kept up an idle stream of chatter in an effort to keep them awake and alert.

As the afternoon stretched on, Kyminn paused more frequently, reaching out with his mindspeech, searching for the help that was coming. Shortly before dinner time, he gave a sigh of relief. "They aren't far now. They should be here within the hour."

Randen nodded slightly, trying not to move his shattered shoulder. The willow bark tea Kyminn had made had dulled the pain a bit, but movement still sent jolts of fire through him. He'd gulped down the brew, grateful for the relief even as he gagged on the bitterness of the raw bark.

"I'm sorry Herald," Kyminn apologized. "Usually we make it with gentler – and stronger – herbs. My grandmother always believed that if someone had to decide which of the two was worse – the sickness or the cure – then there was something wrong with the cure." He sighed in frustration. "This time of year, there's nothing much I can find aside from the willow."

"It's alright Kyminn." Randen gave him a wan smile. "Derris and I both know how much worse it could be. In case I forget, thank you from both of us."

Kyminn wasn't sure how to respond, so he simply ducked his head and said "You're welcome" and busied himself moving warmed stones to replace the cooled ones.

* * *

"I found him!" The woodsman's shout of discovery was joined by a clamour of voices as people appeared at the lip of the ravine.

"Let me through!" The speaker was woman on the edge of her sunset years, her braids showing more gray than chestnut these days. For all that, she still moved strongly, pushing her way through the throng without regard to rank or sex.

"What have you got boy?" The voice might have been thinning with age, but there was strength of will behind it.

"A Herald and Companion caught in a slide. Both are pinned. We are going to need you and mother. I need your talents." Kyminn paused, then added obliquely, "All of them."

It took several minutes for his grandmother and mother to rope up and inch their way into the ravine. A second line lowered down bundles of supplies. Kyminn signaled the others to wait at the top of the bank, to let the Healers work first.

"Why didn't you let them send more help down? We're going to need the help." Kyminn's mother opened the pack and started removing supplies.

Kyminn looked from his grandmother to Randen. "It's his leg, Grandmother. What does your healing gift tell you?" His voice, for the first time, was dark with worry. "I didn't want to discuss this where everyone could hear."

Stiff knees bent into the mud beside Randen. "Herald, my name Anya. I have not been in active service for many years now, but I never stopped being a Healer. No Healer ever really does. I was trained at the collegium and served the crown for a long time. I know my craft and what I am asking of you. Let me in?"

Randen nodded, and Anya closed her eyes and reached for the Herald's mind. She was still for several long moments, then with a sad sigh, she opened her eyes again. "It's as Kyminn feared, and I'm afraid it's not good news. You have been pinned for many hours now and the leg is badly crushed. The flesh has started to die and those poisons are trapped in the leg. With no blood flowing, the body is not able to cleanse itself. If we were to free the leg right now, those poisons would flood your body and stop your heart." Her voice was soft as she went on. "If I had a stronger gift, I might be able to prevent it. Or if Kyminn had been able to free you, I could have saved the leg. Crippled still, but with two legs. I'm sorry."

Randen's voice was bleak, but firm. "And Derris?"

Kyminn spoke up. "Once you are free, we can easily lift you up the bank. You can't see it from where you are lying, but the slope is steep and it's about 60 feet to the top. I have an idea on how we can lift Derris out, but it won't be easy, fast or painless."

A nod. "Well then Healer, I guess you're going to have to cut off my leg." The smile was a bit wobbly.

Decision made, things moved quickly. Under Anya's direction, the villagers prepared the stretcher and ropes to move the Herald. Anya and Keli, Kyminn's mother, prepared the Herald for surgery. The sleeping draught was quick, and for the first time in hours, the Herald was free of pain.

Kyminn and one of the woodsmen packed and tightened the shaft in Derris's chest. Although Derris could not yet stand, he was going to have to shift to free his Herald, and the wound was far too close to being fatal for them to risk anything.

"Ready?" Anya gathered Keli and Kyminn with her eyes. Keli nodded. Kyminn picked up the unconscious Herald's hand and placed it gently on Derris's shoulder again. "Ready."

It was done in moments, Anya using her gift to seal the vessels she could and tying off the rest. Kyminn and Keli helped Derris shift just so and Randen was, at last, lifted clear. As the stretcher started to make its way to the base of the bank, Kyminn put his hand gently on the arm of one of the bearers and said "Stop a moment. Let his Companion be with him."

The villager nodded and they stopped the stretcher where Derris could, after a day of pain, see his Herald. Carefully, the white head reached out and touched Randen's chest. A part of Kyminn wondered what was passing between them, beyond where words and consciousness dwelt. Then the moment passed and Derris gave the stretcher bearers an imperious shove. Careful of their precious cargo, they continued their journey out of the ravine.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Randen opened his eyes on darkness. He must have moved because he heard Keli's voice from the darkness. "A moment Herald Randen." The healer unshielded a lantern enough for Randen to see he was in a well-constructed lean-to, although he was still on the stretcher.

"Herald?" Kyminn's voice was fogged with fatigue. "My mother said you'd be waking up about now. I wanted to let you know how Derris is and to see if you could speak to him for me."

"How is he?" Randen reached out towards his Companion. _:Derris?:_

The familiar mindvoice was there instantly. _:I'm here brother.:_

 _:How are you?:_

There was a hesitation, and Randen felt the pain in the Companion's mind. : _I'm…alright. Kyminn had them build a frame and sling. I'm standing now, which helps. Getting up was…not easy_.: Randen felt Derris shudder in memory. _:Thank the boy for me._ :

 _:I will.:_ It was Randen's turn to hesitate. : _We're going to be alright. Both of us. Different, but alright. Yes?:_

A snort. _:Of course. And just in case you were wondering, this doesn't excuse you from bringing me pocket pies.:_

It seemed strange, but right, to laugh.

Kyminn blinked, but said nothing.

"Kyminn? How is Derris? Really?" Randen let the welcome feeling of Derris's presence linger in the back of his thoughts.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I know he's not a horse, but not even a Companion can stay down for days without injury. We built a frame and sling and helped him get up. The frame is holding most of his weight now. I think it's helping."

"He says it is. And he said to thank you. I gather getting him up wasn't easy."

Kyminn slowly shook his head. "No, it wasn't. He needed to be awake to hold his head and forequarters still, and get his feet beneath himself. I blocked the pain as much as I could, but I had to control the bleeding too. It was very hard on him. I'm so sorry."

Randen grasped Kyminn's arm and said fiercely. "Don't be sorry! You – all of you – have done the best you possibly could and more! We'd both be dead by now if not for you. Don't be sorry. We're not!"

A ragged, indrawn breath. "Thank you. That helps, I think." He cleared his throat and went on, more strongly. "Do you feel up to being moved to where you can see him? I want to explain to you our plan and see how you and he feel about it."

Randen nodded quickly. "I'd like to see him please!"

Between them, Kyminn and Keli carefully moved the stretcher to the edge of the ravine.

Outside the shelter, Randen was startled at what he saw. It was full night, but the villagers had been busy. Quick shelters had been thrown up against the cold spring night and several cook-fires were lit. A rough ladder had been built to make moving in and out of the ravine easier. The greatest surprise was at the bottom of the ravine.

The space around Derris had been cleared and a ring of torches lit the scene. A sturdy frame had been erected and a sling of fabric supported the now-standing Companion. Even as he watched, sheepskins were being tucked between the sling and Derris's flesh to prevent chafing. A shelter to protect the Companion from the rain was nearly complete and a team of young adults, under the direction of an older man, made sure Derris was kept well covered in warmed blankets.

"You've gotten a lot done!" Randen let his surprise show.

"We're woodcrafters Randen. If there is one thing we know, it's timbering and working with timbers. Our woodsmen often make work camps during the summer. We're pretty good at throwing things like this together."

"That shelter looks…kind of permanent."

"Oh. No. It's not. But it _is_ very important that Derris stay warm and dry until we can get him out of there. And that's what I wanted to talk to you both about."

Randen didn't need to look down to know that Derris was watching – and listening.

Kyminn was somber. "Derris and you have similar injuries, in that you both landed on your right – his off – shoulders." He held up a hand to forestall Randen's unspoken protest. " _His_ shoulder I can Heal. Or, I think I can. I can't guarantee that he'll ever be fully mobile, but the bones can heal, in time. It's the injury to his chest that, frankly, has me terrified."

Randen nodded, but didn't speak. He couldn't.

Kyminn took a deep breath. "The shaft missed his heart. But it did a lot of damage. If we were just to pull it out, I don't think I could stop the bleeding. In fact, I'm sure I couldn't. So we have to take it out slowly. By cutting it out."

Randen blanched. "You want to cut his chest open? Here? Now?"

"Well, not right now, not as things are here. That's why I need to talk to you both. I can't do the surgery right now. Derris needs to be lying down for me to do this. And once the piece is out, he needs to be still. Those veins and muscles will tear in an instant." Another deep breath. "So here are the choices. I can do the surgery now. We level the floor of the ravine, lay down some canvas, do the surgery. But it means that Derris stays down here for weeks – at least into midsummer – until the tissue is strong enough for us to lift him out. Or…we lift him out and move him to the village. There I have a barn that I use for treating horses and such."

"The risk of getting him out?"

"Risky. I can't say for sure how much. It's keeping that piece of wood still that is the problem. If it stays still, then I'm sure we can get him out safely. Once he's out, we can sling him out between two draft horses. I can make sure they don't spook or jar him." Iron conviction in the last.

"The risk of staying?"

Kyminn gave a frustrated grimace. "There is more risk to the surgery, a muddy ravine is not the best place to cut into anyone's chest. But I think I can prevent any wound fever. He can stay down long enough for us to safely get him out."

"Derris says that once his chest is healed, he thinks he can climb out." Randen offered.

Kyminn looked down at the blue eyes. "I can't heal your chest and bones at the same time. It could be months before your shoulder and leg are strong enough for you to walk that far. And I'm not sure how strong your shoulder will be. You could destroy it climbing out.

"And there is one other problem. Or potential risk." Kyminn gestured into the ravine. "That line, about half way up the bank? That's the high water mark. The water doesn't get that high every year, but it might. And if it floods…" he trailed off.

"So those are the choices then?" Randen looked from Derris to Kyminn. "We stay here and wait for Derris to heal, hoping that we don't drown in the meantime. Or, get to somewhere that you can save him, but he might die getting there. Is that about it?"

"I'm afraid so." Kyminn rested his hand gently on the Herald's arm. "I'll leave you two alone to talk about it."

Kyminn took himself a little way off from Randen and lowered himself to the ground with a muffled groan. He smiled a thank you at the woman who slipped a mug of stew and chunk of journey bread into his hands. The people of Oakden didn't know how Gifts and healing worked, but they knew what Anya and her family did for the village, and the toll it took on them. Although this was one of the most serious emergencies the town had seen, it wasn't the first, and a few of the villagers made it their particular task to make sure the rescuers were fed.

His stomach full, Kyminn slipped into a light doze, part Healing trance, part rest. It wouldn't replenish his strength, but it would balance the trickle of power feeding the healing tendrils wrapped around the Companion.

He woke when it started to rain.

Kyminn glanced at the sky and used language his mother pretended he didn't know. Crawling to his feet, he made his way back over to Randen's stretcher. The Herald's face was grey with pain and worry.

"You know the area Kyminn. Is this going to be a big storm?"

Kyminn shook his head unhappily. "I don't think so. But I can see further up the valley and there's a bigger storm to the east of us. If it gets here, it will raise the water level some, but the water will move downstream, so we can probably wait it out. If it settles in up the valley, then all that water is going to gather and come down on us – along with anything it picks up. I just don't know, Herald."

Randen was forcibly reminded that although Kyminn was a talented and able Healer, he was still a relatively young man. In Haven, he would still be in his last years of training and with a mentor or teachers to rely on. He wouldn't be ready – or asked – to make judgements like this. Randen grasped the boy's arm tightly. "Derris says he doesn't want to wait. He'd rather take the known risk now than wait." A small smile. "And I agree. We don't want to sit around here, waiting to see if we're going to die."

"Everybody dies Randen. But I promise to do my best to make sure that it doesn't happen today." A ghost of a smile and Kyminn left to organize a rescue.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Kyminn? The Guard's here." The village headman shook Kyminn's shoulder gently.

Blinking in the gloom, Kyminn automatically reached out with his Healing gift to see what had happened to Derris. It took a moment for Merell's words to penetrate the fog. He had curled up in a blanket at Derris's feet, with instructions that he was to be wakened every candlemark or if something changed. The rain was still a steady drizzle, but the water didn't show any sign of rising.

"Kyminn? This is Guard Captain Anden out of Ravenswood. He's brought some men to help."

Kyminn stood and gave the captain a grateful look. "Thank you for coming. I think we're going to need a lot of hands."

The captain looked from Merrell to Kyminn. "Are you in charge here?"

Kyminn shook his head. "Not really sir. Right now, I'm just trying to save Derris. There are two other Healers caring for Herald Randen."

"Three now," the Guard captain interjected. "We have a Healer posted with us and your…message said he was needed. He's up top with Herald Randen now." He looked back to Merell. "What do you need?"

"From what I understand from Kyminn, if he takes that wood out now, it will be days before we can lift the Companion out. But if we lift him now, the Companion might die." His gesture took in the cold rain. "This canyon floods, captain. We could end up drowning the Companion if we wait."

"What does the Herald say?"

Kyminn spoke up. "He and Derris don't want to risk flooding. They want Derris out now."

Anden looked speculatively at the steep slope, the debris and the Companion. "You're thinking of a hoist?"

"Yes sir. In stages. Three platforms, maybe four. A hoist frame at each platform. Derris gets lifted up and swayed over to the next platform. The sling gets attached to the next set of rigging and we repeat the process. If we go slowly, and are careful with the tension, he shouldn't get jostled too much."

The captain looked thoughtful. "You'll have to make sure to have room to draw the lines steadily, no hand over hand. It has to be smooth." He gave a quick nod. "One of my guardsmen has some experience with lines and rigging. He was raised in a fishing village but gets so sick on water that he couldn't work as a fisherman. So he joined the guard instead."

"Well, no lakes around here to shake him about," Merell said stoutly. "We've already been cutting timbers – we knew that sooner or later we'd need some kind of frame or hoist to lift the Companion out of here. And we've plenty experience in hoisting heavy loads. Some of the trees we cut weigh many times more than a horse."

Kyminn caught the look in Anden's eyes at this but both opted to tactfully not correct the headman.

"So then Merell," Anden took the headman's arm and guided him towards the ladder, "Let's figure out the best design then, shall we?"

As the two moved off, Kyminn turned back to Derris. The Companion was warm, and as comfortable as they could make him under the circumstances. Kyminn checked anyway, for what seemed like the hundredth time. As he examined – again – the shaft of wood marring the white chest, he paused. "Derris, does Randen have any gifts besides Mindspeech with you?"

Derris's ears cocked towards Kyminn and the equine head gave a decisive nod.

"I don't suppose one of them is Fetching, is it?" Kyminn's voice said he had the beginning of an idea.

A pause, then a slow, regretful shake of Derris's head.

Fatigue, frustration and fear bubbled out of Kyminn. "Damn!" He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, as though afraid he would fly apart. "I was hoping. Not that he could Fetch you out, but just a little bit, to hold the wood still. That's all we would need. Just a little bit." He sagged. "Gods. It seems like we just can't get a break."

Warm, hay-scented breath whiffed in Kyminn's hair. A soft nose nudged his cheek, then gave him a sharp shove.

Kyminn gave a raspy bark of a laugh. "I may not be able to mindspeak with you, but I know 'Shut up and stop feeling sorry for yourself' when I hear it." A real, if tired, smile creased his face. "Thanks. I guess I needed that." A gentle stroke along the neck. "I'm going to check on Randen."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Altogether, it took the village and Guard nearly four days to construct the hoists and platforms needed to attempt the rescue. Dozens of timbers were cut and trimmed, to be fastened together with clever notches, rope and iron spikes.

At Merell and Anden's request, Kyminn had sent Kel back to the village, this time with a note tied to her leg. It requested chains, ropes, pulleys and tackle, iron and more. The ironsmith came, bringing charcoal to heat fires hot enough to forge the lengths of chain they would require, along with still more willing hands. Teams of villagers and guardsmen dug down into the bank, setting the legs of the hoists deep into the earth. Another team of guardsmen surveyed a road from the ravine back to the main road. Those not digging cut brush and timber to clear the track. Kyminn was adamant that it needed to be at least four horses wide and as smooth as possible. Even youngsters were put to work, trimming away roots from the new road. A new, temporary village sprang up, built for the sole purpose of saving one man and one Companion.

Kyminn spent much of his time in the shelter with Randen or curled up beside Derris. Kyminn had, with input from Randen, the guard's Healer and Derris himself, brewed a pain killing draught that let both Derris and Kyminn rest. Between the draught and Healer Pell being able to help in maintaining and monitoring the healing web around Derris, Kyminn slowly started to regain some of his strength.

For Randen, the waiting was a misery. He swung between worry for Derris and the reality of his own injuries. Randen had been startled into silence when Pell listed them for him: right shoulder shattered along with a break to the upper arm, three ribs on that side cracked, pelvis cracked, right leg gone from above the knee. One kidney was bruised and he had sprains and bruises too numerous to mention. And he'd broken two fingers on his left hand.

"Herald, without Healing, it would be months before you would be able to walk unaided. With bone healing, we can get you on your feet sooner, but learning to walk again is going to take a long time. Normally you would have a crutch to help you move around until you get a replacement leg, but your shoulder won't be strong enough for that for quite some time. Healer Anya and I agree that we are going to wait and set your shoulder after we get you to the village. Doing it right is too delicate a procedure to do here. We'd just have to do it again."

So Randen waited, worry for Derris slowly gnawing away at him. He tried not to, but he found himself constantly asking Kyminn for updates. He could feel Derris in his mind, but the wall of drugs made it impossible to speak to his Companion.

"No change Randen. He's holding his own," Kyminn said patiently. "In fact, he's doing far better than I had any right to expect. His stamina is extraordinary."

A small smile. "The stamina of Companions is legendary. That's why they can travel faster and farther than any other creature. It's part of what makes them Companions."

"And it's keeping him alive." Kyminn gave a gusty sigh. "It's a balance, Randen. He needs strength to stay alive, to deal with the shock and blood loss. Normally, to keep up his energy he'd be eating like…well, like a horse. But eating and drinking takes energy too, energy that's sustaining him. So we feed him as much as we dare, pour energy into the healing web, and pray. A lot."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"We're ready."

The day dawned grey, but showed signs of growing warmer as the day progressed. After the first night, the rain had, by some blessing of the gods, passed to either side of them, leaving them free to work without fear of being swept away.

Randen's stretcher was resting on a platform at the edge of the canyon, his eyes locked onto Derris's. Derris was wide awake. It had been agreed that it was vital that Derris be able to maintain his balance on the platforms or shift if needed. Privately, Randen and Derris had wanted the Companion to be there, awake and with his Chosen, if the attempt failed.

In addition to watching the proceedings, Randen was linked in with Kyminn, Pell and Anya, monitoring and strengthening Derris. Pell had suggested using a paralytic, to lock the muscles around the shaft to help prevent it from moving. Derris had objected to this, pointing out through Randen that this left him unable to respond if something went wrong. In the end, they decided that Kyminn would use his Gift to do the same thing, lock down and "freeze" the muscles around the injury. Not only would this help keep the shaft still, it would clamp down on the blood vessels, preventing them from tearing if anything _did_ happen.

The team doing the lifting had, at Captain Anden's insistence, drilled the procedure and practiced the hoist and transfer, using a heavy timber in place of Derris. After the first attempt, when the transfer failed and the timber dropped, Randen had nearly called off the entire thing then and there. Anden brought him up short with a pithy observation about someone named Dethor's policies regarding practice and learning from one's painful mistakes. Randen was far from happy, but he promptly shut up.

In the end, Anden – and the mysterious Dethor – were proved right. The lift went as smoothly as they had dared hope, each transfer being accomplished smoothly and without pain or further injury. Kyminn's knees buckled in relief when Derris settled into the sling at the top of the canyon. Randen simply said, hoarsely, "I thank you. We thank you all. There are…no words."

Pell rested a hand on Derris's uninjured shoulder. "No words are needed. And no time to say them. This injury is a poison and we cannot keep it at bay much longer. It is time for us to go."

Randen's memory of the next few days was captured in images, a series of paintings that remained etched vividly in his mind:

Derris, dwarfed between two massive draft horses, slung between them as he was transferred to the village.

Kyminn, slumped on the back of a draft horse, one hand on Derris, his face a mask as he concentrated on keeping the horses moving in perfect unison.

The town hall, one wall cut away and a bizarre frame erected over the council table.

Derris, on his back, his grotesque wound a garish clash to the beautiful marquetry of the table.

Pell and Anya, hands wrapped in Derris's mane as they linked with Kyminn.

Kyminn, hands and forearms red with Derris's life as he plunged his hands into the Companion's chest, cutting, probing, sealing, healing. Inch by inch extracting the lance that threatened Derris's heart – and Randen's own.

It was hours. It was minutes. It was years. Kyminn laid the brutal lance on the table and stitched up the last piece of bloodied hide. A grey, wobbly smile to Randen. "It's done."

* * *

Moving Derris into the barn took time and muscle, but was accomplished without difficulty. Randen insisted on remaining with him throughout the transfer. It was a bit incongruous to see a team of draft horses in the town hall, but nobody seemed to mind the scuff marks on the floor.

The barn was surprisingly stout and airy; given that it was tucked away in a remote village. Randen realized this must have been Kyminn's doing, this was his workspace after all. The stall set aside for Derris wasn't quite as good as he would have had in the Companion's barn in Haven, but it wasn't far behind. The planking was sanded smooth and had been freshly painted and scoured. Ropes, slings and rigging was hung on hooks while a small cabinet held bandages, salves and other necessities.

As Derris was settled in at last, Randen's stretcher was settled on trestles beside the Companion. Keli gently tucked blankets under him so that he could reach Derris. Randen looked at her in askance.

"My mother and son both insisted. They said you both need this, to spend some time together, just the two of you." She gently stroked the unconscious Companion. "He's not awake, no, but Kyminn's Empathy tells him that Derris knows you're here, and right now he needs you."

Randen nodded, eyes bright with unshed tears. Keli gave his good arm a gentle squeeze. "Pell will be listening for you both. We'll be back for you when you're ready."

As the door shut behind her, Randen curled up against his friend's warm, living body and cried. The days of pain and fear poured out of him in a flood, the white hide absorbing his tears as the silent strength of their bond absorbed their shared pain.

He cried because they were both alive and he cried because they had very nearly died. Tears of gratitude for what they had gained, bitter sorrow for what they had lost. Part of him was ashamed that he, a man grown and an experienced Herald should be so lost to such a display. Most of him understood that being strong didn't mean not feeling. Sometimes it meant the burden one carried was greater – deeper and more acute- and it was okay to admit that some things were terribly, terribly hard.

Still, even the strongest body can only weep for so long. By the time he had exhausted his grief and remaining strength, the light told him that several hours had passed. He felt empty and full at the same time, the shifting sands underfoot finally offering him a purchase. As he blinked his aching eyes, he saw someone had left a small basin and cloth near at hand. Healers, it seemed, understood there was more to their art than mending torn flesh.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The meeting in Randen's sick room the next morning was an eclectic one. Pell, Anya, Keli and Kyminn all attended, as did Anden and Merell. A guardsman waited outside the door in case they needed a runner.

Pell spoke first. "We," he indicated the healers, "think we have a plan for the next stage of Randen's treatment."

Merell blanched a bit, "Hold there, Healer! I don't want to know all the details of people's inside bits, thank you very much! If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon you discussed that after I leave!"

Pell laughed. "Not to worry Merell, no 'inside bits' for you today. All I meant to say was that today Anya, Keli and I will work on Randen's shoulder, and then later in the day, Kyminn and Keli will work on Derris's. Anya and I will help if needed, but Kyminn and I both feel that he and Keli can do most of it."

Kyminn nodded in agreement. Bathed, rested and with a hot meal inside him, he was starting to look a bit less ragged.

"What do you need from the Guard?" Anden was direct.

It was Merell who answered that one. "I can't speak for the Healers, but I was hoping to ask if some of your men could stay a day or so until we get everyone moved back to town. There's a fair bit of what-not to be moved back and the extra hands would be a real help to us." He nodded to Anden and went on, "I know that last night your men helped a lot with getting folks sorted and with getting things ready for Derris and all, and it was sorely appreciated. If you could see to doing the same for a few more days, we'd sure be grateful."

"I think we can certainly manage that headman Merell. Once Kyminn here, "a nod towards the boy, "told us Derris was out of danger, I sent a messenger off to Knowles Crossing. He should be there by mid-day tomorrow. He'll be able to change horses there and make his way over to Langenfeld. They'll know where the next closest Herald is expected to be and make sure the message gets delivered. With any luck, and if they find a mind speaking Herald, the message should be in Haven in a sennight or so. Until we hear back, I'll leave you three guardsmen under the command of a corporal. They can help care for Herald Randen here and anything that Derris needs."

Merell smiled gratefully. "Much appreciated captain. I promise you we won't abuse the privilege."

A laugh and Anden clapped Merell on the shoulder. "I didn't think you would Merell. And even if you were inclined, I'd say that the people of Oakden have earned a bit of privilege. If the Healers don't need us?" All four shook their heads. "Then Merell and I will get started with putting the village back to rights." Anden gestured for Merell to proceed him from the room. "And, we'll leave the healers to discuss the 'inside bits' with Herald Randen there."

"So," Randen said cautiously, "what do you plan on doing with my inside bits?"

Anya spoke for the healers. "Not so much in inside bits, Herald Randen, but I'm afraid you might find the next part of your healing a bit difficult to contemplate." She carefully unwrapped a leather case, displaying the odd pins and wires within. She glanced at Pell and then back at Randen. "Herald, how much do you about how healing is accomplished?"

Randen gave that some thought. "From what I understand, it is like most Gifts. For some people, there is a part of their mind that is…open. It lets them do things that others can't. It's neither good nor evil in and of itself, it's simply a talent one is born with, like music or painting." A small shrug with his good shoulder. "As for how they _work_ , well, I'm not sure anyone really knows. Most of the time people describe their gift as like having an extra limb or skill. I have a bit of mindspeech and some Farsight. Farsight is like…being able to use a viewing glass, but you can do it at a great distance and through a wall or mountain. As for Healing…I'm not as sure what that is like."

Anya was nodding in agreement at his words. "You've described it very well. For most people, a gift is much like that, an extra limb or a sense. Healing is the same. It is like an extra sense in that we can 'feel' how a body lives, the energy that binds life together. There really isn't a good way to explain it. Imagine…imagine you saw a beautiful sculpture, intricate pieces fitting together in balance. Now imagine that you could sense all the places that it was in balance, all the glue and forces holding it together. Now imagine that you could manipulate that balance, that glue and force, that you could sense when it was out of balance and act to correct it. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, yes it does. And I imagine that it's one of the reasons that the laws of Valdemar insist that people with the Healing gift be trained. If a person can push those forces back into balance to heal, they could also push them out of balance, to harm." Randen was sober.

"Exactly. That's why I undertook to train Kyminn as soon as we realized he had gifts. At the Healer's Collegium, we studied what happens when a gift goes rogue. It was not a risk worth taking for my grandson, or for anyone.

"Which brings us to your shoulder. My own gift is considered to be a very weak one. Where Pell could Heal you if you cut your finger while slicing vegetables, I could Heal you if you were scratched a bit by a kitten. The ability is the same, but what I can do directly – my "strength" if you will – is much reduced. At first, I – and the Healer's Collegium – saw my gift as something _less_ , as not really useful. It was…not easy." There was a flash of regret, quickly smoothed away.

"Over time though, I came to realize that while I may not be able to use my Gift the way other Healers do, it is, in fact, extremely useful. If you were to compare my Gift to Kyminn's, or Pell's what you would find is that Kyminn's gift is very strong, a waterfall of force. Pell's is less strong, but is a sturdy, flowing stream. Mine, on the other hand, is more like mist on the water than water itself."

Randen blinked. "Mist? I'm sorry, but I don't understand how you use a Gift you describe as being 'like mist'".

A mischievous smile. "Don't feel bad. It took me years to figure it out. Picture this. You are walking through a meadow and you step into a puddle. The water pushes against you, you can feel it's force and resistance. Also, your feet are wet, but everything else is dry, yes?"

Randen nodded and Anya went on. "Same meadow, but this time you are walking through…"

"A mist!" Randen exclaimed. "A mist is everywhere, touches everything! It…permeates…in ways that water doesn't. Is that what you mean?"

"It is indeed." A shrug. "Of course, water permeates too, but in a different way. My gift doesn't have nearly as much 'force' as Pell's does, but mine goes deeper, in ways his does not. I spent years trying to make my gift be a spray of water when it was actually something else." She lightly touched his injured shoulder. "I used my gift on your shoulder, not to Heal, but to create a shield between the pieces of bone, to prevent them from binding together."

Randen gaped. "To…keep them from healing? But…why?" He felt an irrational flash of betrayal. First his leg, and now this?

Pell must have known what he was feeling, because he spoke up. "Randen, you are badly injured and our healing strength is limited. You broke your shoulder six days ago. In the field as we were, it wasn't possible to set it properly. It's almost a given that the bones would have shifted when we moved you back here. And if, by some chance, they didn't, it's likely we would have had to break them again, this time to set them properly." He gave a deep sigh. "Randen, we want you to have the most use out of that shoulder that you possibly can. You're going to need it. That means doing the best possible job knitting those bones back together. We couldn't do that in the field. We _can_ do it here. That means having clean bone, with no new bone or scarring. Blocking those bones from healing gave you the best chance of a nearly full recovery. Honest."

Randen frowned as he thought that over for a long moment. Finally, grudgingly, he nodded. "Alright, I guess I can see that. So what happens now?"

It was Anya's turn again. "Now we put you back together." She gestured at the assortment of pins. "Because I can't use 'force' to heal, I've had to find other ways. This was one of them."

Keli, silent until now, broke in. "She got the idea watching my father make furniture."

A smile of memory from Anya. "I was fascinated with how he made the dove tails and joints line up, with how he slipped pegs into to hidden holes to strengthen the piece. Then, during gluing, a clamp on the outside to hold it together until it was strong."

"I think," said Randen faintly, "that I'm beginning to see what you meant by this being difficult to contemplate."

"Yes Randen. We're going to stick these pins into the bones of your shoulder and then clamp them together on the outside. At least until the bone has set."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

For the next ten days, Randen was what he later referred to as "an ironwork Herald". A frame of wires and pins held the broken bones in place during the Healing. With the bizarre apparatus attached to his body, he was forced to lie on his hale side, propped and braced to a fare-thee-well.

Morning saw Pell or Kyminn helping him with necessary personal needs and a sketchy wash. This was one of the few times that he was awake and alert enough to check in with Derris. Derris was steadily improving, but his own treatments left him as fatigued as his Herald. Still, they both treasured those moments.

Once he was cleaned and had eaten, Pell and Anya would arrive for the first of the day's healing sessions. These were focused on the shoulder, but they made sure not to neglect the cracked pelvis. Until it was stronger, he would be unable to even sit up without pain. Both healers agreed that that this was an unwise stress to place on his ravaged body.

The healing sessions always left Randen exhausted. Neither he nor the healers wanted him to rely solely on the powerful – and addictive – pain killing draughts. Fortunately, one of the side effects of the healing meant that Randen slept a lot.

The afternoon healing session was usually the hardest, since it was usually when they moved the pins and adjusted his arm. Pell would block the pain long enough for him to eat, then he would gulp down the laced wine and slide into a numbed slumber.

It was a surprise then, to open his eyes and find Keli adjusting his bandages. "Randen? How do you feel this morning?"

He blinked and spent a moment cataloging the various regions of discomfort. "Better, I think." He tried to shift and stilled. "Really?"

A laugh in her voice. "Really. Pell and Anya came in early this morning and decided the pins could come out. They pushed you into a deeper sleep and took the frame off." She peeled back the bandage to show him nine small pockmarks in his shoulder. "You'll always have the scars, but with time, you should have most of the use of your shoulder back."

He tried to sit up and she pushed him back. "That's _if_ you pay attention to your healers and your exercises. You've got a long way to go before you can run off and be the dashing hero Herald again."

He slumped. "I won't be running anywhere." His voice was dull.

"No, you won't. But having two legs doesn't make you a Herald, any more than if I rode a white horse I'd be one. From what my mother has told me, a Herald is in _here_ ", she touched his chest lightly. "Not in your legs or arms. You haven't lost that. You may have lost your way for a bit, but you'll find it again. It's in you to do so."

Randen searched her face and was surprised to see that there was no pity there. No judgement, no naiveté, no adulation. Just a pragmatic honesty and compassion. "You've a long road, Herald Randen. Best put your foot on it now."

Randen essayed a dry smile. "I guess I've been told. So then…what comes next?"

"What comes next," she snorted, "is your breakfast. After that, some stretching exercises and more healing. Today we are going to start getting you to sit more upright and see how your hip tolerates the weight. It's our hope that in a few days we'll get your foot on the floor and getting some weight on it. Pell wants you standing within the sennight."

He sighed. "I can see this is going to take a while. Any chance I can see Derris today?"

A shadow loomed over his shoulder and Kyminn came around the side of his bed. "You can indeed. Now that your shoulder is out of the frame, we can move you around. But first, let's get you cleaned up. Can I interest you in a bath?"

Randen's eyes lit up. "A bath? With hot water and soap?" He tried not to calculate how long it had been since he'd been really, truly, clean. Bed bathes, while a vast improvement to the mud he'd arrived in, was _not_ the same thing as a bath.

"Yes, a real bath." Kyminn laughed. Randen was startled to realize that it was the first time he'd heard the young man laugh. It was a mark of the strain of the last fortnight that a laugh fell oddly on his ears.

Getting shifted to the tub left Randen pale and shaking, but the bliss of being set into the steaming water more than made up for the discomfort. He fully intended to revel in the experience as long as he possibly could.

"Here," Kyminn handed him a cloth and some soap. "I'll do your hair. You still can't move that shoulder and you can't clean your hair with one hand."

Randen cleaned as much of himself as he was able, but was galled to realize just how little mobility he had. Even trying to sit up enough to reach his knee set his hip to throbbing. He sank back with a frustrated growl. "Gods! I can't do anything for myself! I'm as feeble as a day old chick!"

"Day old chicks have more sense," came a snort from behind him. Kyminn gave him a sharp rap on the head. Randen blinked in surprise.

"I know exactly what you were thinking. You were thinking that you're a fit, disciplined Herald, that if you work hard enough, maybe push it just a little bit, then you'll be fit sooner. You're thinking how Healers are always conservative, that we always think slower is better and all risk is bad." Kyminn tossed up his hands in exasperation. "Everyone seems to think that we _want_ our patients to stay in bed longer, that we _want_ them to recover as slowly as possible. Why is that? Why do people always forget that healers can actually, you know, _see_ the progress of recovery, can _see_ if you're well enough to try something? But no – everyone thinks that we take some sadistic pleasure in keeping people trapped in bed. Because waiting on them hand and fit is what we live for. That's us, trying to keep people sick longer so we get more beets and chickens out of them." A snort.

Randen said in a small voice. "Kyminn? I don't have any beets or chickens. Does this mean I have to leave?" He caught Kyminn's eye and the two of them burst out laughing.

Pell gave a quick tap and stuck his head around the corner. "What are you two on about?"

"Beets, chickens and the evil plots of Healers." Randen said cheerily.

"I see." Pell thought about it, and decided not to ask. "Ready to go see Derris now?" Pell helped Kyminn move the stretcher over to the tub. Randen hadn't noticed before, but it was part stretcher, part bed. The frame had been cleverly notched so that the end could lift up, letting the patient sit up or lie down as needed.

Pell looked at Randen with the unfocused look that meant he was using his gift. "Hmm. You're doing well this morning. I think we'll try sitting you up a bit more." He adjusted the frame. "Remind me to send a sketch of this off to Healer's. It's similar to something that we use, but got some refinements they might want to consider."

"Is that so?" Randen was intrigued as he let them settle him into the frame.

"Of course. We're always on the lookout for knowledge." A snort. "Well, most of us. I'll be the first to admit that there are some who think any change will bring on chaos, doom, thunderstorms and flatulence, but we are living things. We grow or we die." He helped Randen slip into a clean set of whites. Randen noticed that someone had carefully undone the side seam on the tunic and added a set of ties so that it could slip over his shoulder and bandaging. As they worked, Kyminn padded across to the door. They could hear him speaking briefly with someone.

Kyminn returned with two guardsmen. Both nodded respectfully. "Herald Randen," said one as the four men carefully picked up the stretcher and moved it outside.

Randen had been indoors for so long that the sun came as a shock. He closed his eyes and basked in the spring sunlight, savoring the light.

Kyminn's voice broke into his thoughts. "Today isn't just an important step in your healing. It's a big day for Derris too."

Randen swiveled his head. "What's going on?"

A shake of Kyminn's head. "It's a surprise. Since it's his treatment, it seems only fair that he gets to hear it first."

The spring sunlight was cut off when they entered the barn, but Randen didn't notice. He hadn't seen Derris in ten days and he anxiously looked the Companion over from forelock to fetlock and back again.

Derris gave a deep whicker of welcome, his blue eyes dark with emotion. Kyminn gently ran his hand over the Companion's shoulder and leg.

"The bones are knitting very well, as is the tear in his chest. It's still going to be a while yet before he can put any weight on it." An apologetic look over at Randen. "I'm hoping that he will be able to stand on his own in a fortnight. A horse…or Companion…has a lot of weight balanced on four legs and four shoulders. Walking means that those bones and muscles have to be strong enough to bear several hundredweight. It's going to take a long time."

Derris lowered his head slowly and pressed it against the chest of his chosen. Randen wrapped his good arm around the great head and savored the contact. His voice muffled against the hide, he asked, "When?"

A slow smile. "By the end of summer, you'll be on his back where you belong. He might not be up to running races and jumping fences, but he'll be able to carry you again."

Derris carefully stamped a rear foot and Randen gave a choked laugh. "He says thank you, that's all very well and good, but what is this surprise you have for us?"

Randen tugged on Derris's mane to bring the companion's head around to where he stood. Derris swung his head, an equine expression of comical surprise on his face at the temerity of someone hauling on a Companion. Kyminn didn't seem to notice.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "it occurred to me that you were in that frame in the canyon for four days. And since then, you've been supported in this barn for another ten." An overly casual shrug. "Now, a horse wouldn't mind…"

A warning equine snort greeted this statement.

"And it's true that since the frame takes the weight off, you could rest there for quite some time while you continue to recover…"

White ears pinned back warningly.

"Or….your shoulder is healed enough that it can flex some – carefully! Enough that we can loosen the sling so that you could…if you wanted…lie down for a few hours?" Kyminn was grinning.

The bugle of agreement nearly deafened them.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Derris twitched his shoulder, pulling it away from Kyminn's kneading hands. Kyminn straightened up and regarded the Companion with surprise. "What? Did that hurt?"

Derris was shifting about in the padded sling. Had all four feet been firmly on the ground, he'd have been prancing. Kyminn blinked and reached out with his mind and it was his Empathy that answered back. Derris was very, very pleased about something. The anticipation practically shone from him.

Clearly, this afternoon's session of massage and exercise was at an end. Whatever was going on, it had completely claimed Derris's attention. Kyminn huffed and lightly smacked Derris on the shoulder. "Fine then. Let's see what this is all about then."

He was barely out of the barn when Keli appeared at the door of the healer's building.

"Kym? Randen said that Derris told him there's a Herald coming. Should be here in a bit less than a mark."

"Well," Kyminn muttered. "I guess that does explain things then." He pivoted back to the barn and glared at Derris. "We have nearly a mark. You can't make your friend get here any faster. You still have plenty of time to finish your stretches."

Derris whickered, and Kyminn was certain that had his face been human-shaped, it would have sported an impertinent grin.

Derris had timed things perfectly. Kyminn had just finished refilling Derris's water when a clatter of bells sounded on the road. Kyminn was not alone in moving into the square and by the time the Herald pulled up, a sizable crowd had gathered to greet the new arrival.

Arrivals.

Not a Herald.

Two.

And not two Companions.

Four.

The sight of two Heralds and _four_ Companions triggered a clamour in the crowd. One of the Heralds straightened in her saddle and raised her hand slightly. The noise ebbed immediately. Kyminn raised an eyebrow, wondering how she had managed that. Was it some Heraldic skill or simply her presence alone?

A warm smile creased her face and Kyminn decided it was presence. Having now spent nearly a moon with Randen and Derris, he'd thought himself well past being subject to the mystique of Heralds and Companions. Clearly, he'd been wrong. She wasn't beautiful, but Kyminn was sure this was someone who would have dominated a room even without being a Herald. A mane of stunning autumn-copper hair made her whites seem somehow brighter and drew your attention while the lively character of her features held it.

"Good afternoon." Her voice was a smooth alto and carried clearly over the crowd. "I'm Herald Tarva and this is my Companion Aelish." She nodded to the other rider. "This is Herald Jannen and his Companion Niko." A last gestured took in the two other Companions. "And these are Bryann and Jerith." She looked over the crowd. "We're looking for Kyminn."

Kyminn moved through the crowd until he was standing in front of Aelish. "I'm Kyminn."

Tarva slipped her foot out of the stirrup and slid down to the ground. Profoundly green eyes regarded Kyminn steadily. "How are they?" Her tone was quiet, somber, as though they stood alone in the square. "The last word we got was that they were safe and likely to recover. What wasn't clear was what condition we might find them in when we got here."

Kyminn injected as much reassurance into his tone as he could. "They are both going to be fine." A small smile. "I'd guess you want to see them then." He gestured towards the barn. "They're over here. Derris is closest. Him first?"

Jannen gave a small laugh as he dismounted. "That would be fine, Healer Kyminn."

"I'm not a Healer, Herald Jannen, but thank you for the courtesy of the title."

"Oh?" Jannen's look was speculative. "That's not what we were given to understand." His tone said clearly that the matter would be revisited at another time.

The crowd parted as they followed Kyminn, Companions at their heels. The once-airy barn seemed suddenly crowded with three people and four additional Companions. Jannen gave an inarticulate moan of dismay at the jagged scar on Derris's chest. He lightly ran his hands over the insult. He looked up at Kyminn. "You said he'll recover?"

Kyminn was on sure ground here. He laid out for the six newcomers the details of Derris's wounds and the progress of his recovery.

"…by the end of summer", he concluded.

The two Heralds exchanged looks. It was Tarva who spoke. "I think I speak for the circle when I tell you we are all deeply grateful for what you have done for Derris and Randen."

A small shrug. "I'm not sure what else I could have done. I couldn't just leave them there."

Jannen gripped his shoulder. "We're just lucky you were on hand where you were so badly needed. So then. Let's see Randen then, shall we?"

Pell's voice sounded from the doorway. "I can help you with that, Heralds."

Tarva looked a question at Kyminn. "Kyminn?"

"Healer Pell," a slight emphasis on the title, "is in charge of Randen's care. I don't think there's anything that I could tell you that he couldn't. If it's all right to you, I'll see to getting your Companions settled."

Tarva's face briefly took on a distant look while she spoke with Aelish. "That would be fine, thank you Kyminn. As Aelish pointed out, you clearly know how to handle the needs of Companions."

"Which are _not_ bloody horses," Jannen muttered. Kyminn pretended not to hear him.

The two Heralds wended their way through the forest of white bodies and moved off with Pell, a low voiced conversation about the injured Herald's condition following them.

Kyminn gave the companions a courteous nod. "If you can move outside, I'll be able to remove your tack for you." He glanced around the barn. "I'm afraid I've only the two remaining box stalls, although both open into the back paddock. If you plan to sleep inside, you'll have to share. Sorry about that."

The four companions put their heads together, exactly like classmates conferring. Aelish looked back at him and nodded as the others moved back into the square. As Kyminn followed, he realized that the two lone Companions were not wearing regular tack. Each was wearing an unusual harness, along with a bundles of gear.

Nonplussed, Kyminn moved to Jareth and began unfastening the bundles. To the best of his knowledge, no Companion ever let himself serve as a common pack beast. Jareth reached his head around and gave the bundle, and then Kyminn a nudge. A stamp of the foot emphasized the message.

Unrolling the bundle, Kyminn gave a small cry of relief. "This is exactly what we needed for Derris!" He stretched out the array of straps, hooks and braces. "Derris can only just stand, and that for a short time. If he's to go anywhere, he'll need help to carry his weight. He certainly can't walk home." Kyminn looked up at Jareth. "I was worried they were going to try to send him home between two draft horses. I think that would be a mistake – what would happen to Derris if they panicked or even had a bad day doesn't bear thinking about. I was prepared to scream my head off if anyone insisted on it. That's why you and Bryann are here then? You're here to get Derris back?"

Jareth whickered smugly in agreement and Kyminn resumed removing the harness.

By the time all four Companions had been untacked, groomed and settled, it was well into evening. Kyminn used the soap and rag he kept at the barn and did a quick wash at the pump. He slipped into the healing house and found Anya and Pell at the table, a meat pie laid out in front of them. The door to Randen's room was closed and he could hear the murmur of voices.

"Herald's conference," Anya said, pushing a basket of bread and crock of butter towards Kyminn, nodding her head at the door. "I imagine they've a lot to discuss."

* * *

The meeting that gathered that evening was far different in tone from the one of a fortnight ago. For starters, it was held in the sitting room of the healer's building and not a sickroom. For another, Randen was sitting upright, smiling and cheerful. Merell again attended for the village, and the four healers revisited their roles. Tarva and Jannen joined Randen, creating a bright spot of white in the warm lamplight. Corporal Garvas, the senior of the three men tasked to help the village, stood in for Captain Anden.

Tarva cleared her throat. "Jannen and I", she indicated her colleague, "have spent several hours with Randen. Part of it was passing on messages from Haven and instructions from the circle, but much of it was spent making a record of his circuit and making sure we have a complete report. I think," she glanced at Jannen and he nodded agreement, "that we have all the information we need."

She looked at the guardsman. "Corporal Garvas, I will be taking over Randen's circuit. He still had another seven months left of the duty and both the king and circle agree that this region should not be left without a Herald for that long. I ask you to please make a note of this in your report so that it can go in the records. Also, I am going to ask you to please make sure that Captain Anden is personally told of the change so that he can let other posts know."

Garvas touched his chest in salute. "Of course Herald. Did you want the message to go out immediately?"

She shook her head, red hair flashing in the firelight. "No, thank you. I would appreciate it though, if you could send someone out in the morning. We will have more information - as well as some requests - for your captain by then."

The corporal gave a half bow of acknowledgement and settled back into his alert stance.

Tarva turned to Merell. "Headman, Randen was on his way here when he had his accident. He tells me that he hasn't had a chance yet to receive your report or address any disputes." A dry smile. "He says he's been a bit busy."

Merell's eyes bugged out a bit as he tried to decide whether or not it would be appropriate to smile. Swallowing any untoward expression, he simply said, "I'm afraid he hasn't, milady Herald. I am ready to sit down with you whenever you wish though."

"Would tomorrow morning suit you then?" At his nod, she turned to Kyminn. "Pell tells me that Randen is well enough to be moved back to Haven. Is Derris fit to travel?"

"He is. Especially now that Jareth and Bryann are here to help him. I was wondering if he was going to spend the whole summer with us. Not that I'd mind, but I think Herald Randen would probably find a summer in Oakden just a little bit dull."

Randen laughed. "I would never say that!"

Kyminn grinned at him. "I know you wouldn't. But there's not much for you here aside from exercises. And besides," and he was serious again. "You should be seen by the Healers in Haven, both of you, for rehabilitation."

Tarva broke in. "Which brings us to the last point. Kyminn, how long will it take for you to get Randen, Derris and yourself ready to travel?"

Kyminn gaped at her. He swallowed and said carefully, "With all due respect, Herald Tarva. I am _not_ going to Haven."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

All three Heralds stared at Kyminn. Jannen found his voice first. "It seems that there has been a misunderstanding." He glanced at Pell, then at Kyminn. "I was given to understand Randen and Derris would be in your care for the trip."

"I'm not sure where you got that impression Herald Jannen, but you're mistaken." It was excruciatingly formal. "If anyone goes with you it should be Healer Pell. He can heal both Randen and Derris." He shook his head. "I am not the one to go."

"Kyminn," Pell pointed out reasonably, "I can't go. I'm posted to Ravenswood. If I go, it will leave the region without a Healer."

"What about mother and grandmother?", he said doggedly.

Anya's voice was tart. "I'm retired, grandson. Have been for many years. Being a Healer on station is a young person's charge, not mine." Her voice drew his eye unwillingly. "Kyminn, if Pell goes to Haven it will be mid-summer by the time he gets there. There won't be time for him to get back before winter. That means some of the villages won't have a Healer there until next spring. We can manage for Oakden, your mother and I, but what about the others?"

Kyminn looked wildly around the room. "But I'm needed here!" He stared at Jannen and blurted, "You said it yourself – it's a good thing that I was there when Randen and Derris got hurt."

"And I meant it! But lad…" Jannen realized the mistake as soon as he saw Kyminn's face cloud. "Kyminn, yes, you and your gifts saved them. We don't doubt that and we would never, ever want to change that fact. But…we die, Kyminn. No Herald expects to die in bed. Accident, illness, war, treachery, it's part of being a Herald. It was the gods own chance that had the right man, with the right gifts, here when they were needed. And that's all it was, chance.

"If the slide had happened in Waymeet, or Knowles Crossing, or a nameless track somewhere, then they would have died. We would have grieved, deeply at the loss, but another Herald would step up and carry on. Having a safety net like your gifts is a treasure, but we go whether it's safe or not."

Kyminn looked down at his feet. "This is my place. This is where I'm needed."

"You're needed other places too, Kym." Keli said softly.

His eyes were hot accusation. "Oakden lives or dies by its timber, mother. I'm not arrogant enough to think it's all on me, but you know that people rely on me to keep their beasts healthy." He shifted his gaze over to Merrell. "Without our draft animals, we can't move the timber. No timber harvest, no income."

Merell looked away, uncomfortable at being drawn into the matter. He stood abruptly and gestured at the guard. "This is not a village decision. Aye, Kyminn's gift is of great value to us and I won't deny it. But it isn't on me to say whether he stays or goes. His future is his own, as far as that goes. And whether his gifts need to go to Haven for training or whatnot, that's something for a Healer or Herald to decide. Not for the likes of us." He gave a polite, if short bow to Tarva. "I'll see you in the morning Herald."

The door closed behind them and Anya growled at Kyminn. "You've handled yourself better, grandson."

Kyminn opened his mouth to lash back at her and Randen held up his hand wearily. "Peace, please."

Unwilling to argue with the injured man, Kyminn grudgingly subsided.

"Kyminn, I think I am uniquely qualified to testify as to how important your skills are." His tone was dust-dry. "It's clear that you do tremendous good here. But," his voice softened, "you can do even more good in Haven."

Kyminn looked sideways at him. "Are there healers in Haven that can treat Derris?"

"Yes." It was matter of fact.

"And healers that can help you with your shoulder, and help you learn to walk?"

Levelly again, "There are."

"Then why," and it was a harsh whisper, "do you want me so badly?"

Randen tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "Because, dammit, it's like Jannen said. Your gifts are a treasure, Kyminn. Gifts don't just grow on trees you know. It's like being able to turn air into food and you choose to sit here and make cake for the village when you could be feeding the starving!"

Kyminn rose and paced frantically. "The Gifted flock to Haven! I'm sure there are several dozen people there who can do what I do. I'm the only one Oakden has!"

"There aren't enough to go around, Kyminn. There are never enough to go around."

He whirled and advanced on Randen. "Animal healers? You're saying there's a shortage of Animal Healers?" He glared at the Herald, his reluctance to argue with a sick man forgotten. "If I were a regular Healer, you'd have an argument. I'd be on the next horse to Haven. But I'm not. I'm a decent herb healer and Haven doesn't need those. And I'm a damn good animal healer, and people who rely on their animals, _they_ need me!" Fists clenched at his side, he glared down at the Herald. "If you can swear to me, on Derris, that they need me for the Companions, or there is something I've missed, then yes, I'll go."

Randen met his eyes, glare for glare, for long moments. Finally, he dropped his eyes. "I can't swear it. But," and he was pleading, "that doesn't mean I'm not right."

Tarva's voice was steel in the silence. "What about the kingdom?"

Kyminn snapped his head towards her, then slowly dropped his gaze, his anger blunting on the authority of a senior field Herald. Finally, reluctantly, "What do you mean 'What about the kingdom'?"

"I meant exactly that. You say you want to stay because you can be the most use here, yes?"

A stiff nod.

"And you don't think you'll make the best use of your gifts in Haven, yes?"

Another nod.

"What," it was biting, "makes you so sure that _Oakden_ is the best place for your gifts then?"

Kyminn opened his mouth, and then closed it on silence.

Tarva relented a bit, but steel still underlay her words. "Kyminn, no one doubts that you fully plan to use your gifts the best you can. Not when living proof will kick my arse from here to Rethwellen if I argue the point. But the fact is, we need _someone_ to go to Haven with Randen and Derris. You're the best choice for that. Another point, one we haven't brought up yet, is that working with other Healers and gift teachers might strengthen and expand your skills. There's still a lot about healing you don't know yet. Finally," and this was remorselessly logical, "what if there's somewhere else that needs you _more_ than Oakden does? Maybe there's a somewhere else you need to be."

Kyminn dropped his eyes and his shoulders slumped. "Can I think about it?"

"We'll be here for a few more days yet. Of course you can think about it."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Outside, in the chill spring night, Kyminn struggled to regain his equilibrium. The assumption that he was going to Haven had caught him completely off guard, and he had surprised even himself with how strongly and automatically he had rejected the notion.

He realized that his steps were, from habit, taking him to the barn. It was the place he felt most peaceful, most grounded. There was a surety, a calm necessity in cleaning up, in brewing the tinctures and salves. The mundanity had always served to settle him when he was distressed.

Unwillingly, his steps slowed, then, reluctantly, he turned away. Derris was in the barn and he didn't want to deal with the Companion right now. He wasn't up for another argument, or accusation, or trying to explain himself.

Kyminn recognized that on the one hand, he was arguing about where his duty lay, and yet on the other he was rejecting a duty to care for Derris, all in the same breath. It wasn't what he meant to say, but no matter what it said, that's what came out. He felt tangled, confused. He couldn't even sort out his own mind. He certainly didn't want to try to explain it to Derris.

Instead of the barn, he headed for open spaces, following the path of the community pasture, trying to marshal his feelings.

"I know you're there." He said quietly, not looking at the white shape looming from the darkness. "Please. Just…don't".

 _:Don't go? Or don't stay?:_ a rich tenor rolled through his mind.

"I…" Kyminn turned, slowly. "Bryann?" It was hard to distinguish the form in the gloom.

 _:Jareth.:_ The companion glided up to the fence. Surprising that something so large could move so silently.

"I thought Companions only spoke with their Chosen. Does that mean…?"

Jareth shook his head. _:No, you are not my Chosen:_ He swished his tail, ears cocking forward with curiosity. : _You don't want to be Chosen? Why do you dread it so?:_

Kyminn fumbled for a moment. "I'm really not sure. I guess I don't want to feel like I have a 'destiny'."

Jareth stretched his nose out and bumped Kyminn's shoulder. _:Yet you seem to have a strong sense of duty, of responsibility regarding your Gifts. How is that different? Having a Gift and exercising has shaped your decisions and actions. It's not exactly 'destiny', but it_ is _something you were born with, not something you chose to take on.:_

"I don't know, it just is," it was uncertain. "Maybe I want to make sure I have choice, to be able to accommodate duty, but not be…dictated…by it. Does that make sense?"

Jareth swished his tail thoughtfully for several moments. Clearly, he was considering Kyminn's words. _:I think so.:_ The Companion cocked his head and met Kyminn's gaze. _:Do you feel that you are being dictated to? Is that why you reject going to Haven?:_

Kyminn climbed up onto the fence and settled himself. "Maybe. I'm honestly not sure. I was…caught off guard. It felt like I was being packed up and sent off, that everything had been decided without me."

 _:Nothing has been decided yet. The village and circle can request, and strongly, but no one can_ force you _to go._ :

"I know," he let out a gusty breath. "I guess I already knew that, it was just…surprising."

 _:Really? You knew that Pell couldn't go. You knew that your mother and grandmother couldn't go. You knew that_ someone _has to go. Are you really so surprised that everyone thought it would be you?:_

Kyminn shifted on the fence, but said nothing.

Jareth simply stared at him, waiting.

Finally, "Why are you asking me this?"

 _:Why am_ I _the one doing the asking? Or why do we want to know the answer?:_ Jareth was maddeningly reasonable.

"Both. Which…" Kyminn looked at Jareth, suddenly puzzled. "Why ARE you speaking to me? I though Companions only spoke to their Chosen?"

A snort of something like laughter. _:We can bespeak anyone we choose. We just choose not to share every mind we encounter. And I don't have a Chosen to speak to, and I choose to speak to you.:_

"Derris has never spoken to me, and we've spent a lot of time together." Kyminn was genuinely curious.

 _:Derris is…very private, even for one of us. He's not comfortable reaching beyond the bonds with his Chosen. We are all different. When I Choose, it may be that I don't want to share my thoughts with anyone but my Herald. For now though, we felt it was important to listen to you, and I said I would.:_

"Drew the short straw, did you?" Kyminn snorted.

 _:You might say that. Your mind is open, which makes things easier.:_

"Open like how?"

 _:Part of you is reaching out with your Animal Mindspeech. It's not directed at me, but I can Hear it if I choose. It's as though you were having a conversation in another room and I could put my ear to the door and eavesdrop if I wanted. If it makes you feel better, you have very clear thoughts._ :

"Thanks. I think." Kyminn kicked his feet idly. "So why did you all want to talk to me? Are you going to argue with me too?"

 _:No. I already told you that we aren't here to dictate your choices. But something about this has set you off and we're curious as to why. That doesn't seem like the person Derris told us about. Something about this has you recoiling in dread and it seems important to find out what that is.:_

Kyminn looked Jareth in the eye. From his perch on the fence rail, they were at a level with each other. "Tell me, do people often try to lie to Companions?"

Jareth gave a derisive snort. _:All the time. They lie to our Heralds, they lie to each other, they lie to themselves…they lie all the time. Why?:_ Jareth's mind voice was curious.

"Just wondering. So…how does that work out for them then?"

An equine shrug. _:Sometimes they succeed. Sometimes they don't. You do know that you can't lie mind to mind, right?:_

"Actually, I didn't. Huh. I guess that's because animals don't lie. Nor do they really converse mind to mind. Not like this at any rate. If it makes you feel better, you are a much better conversationalist than father's draft horse."

Jareth pinned his ears back and lashed out with his back feet. He snaked his head towards Kyminn and snapped his teeth in warning. He shook his head and snorted, regarding Kyminn sideways.

: _That was…not funny.:_ His tone was decidedly miffed.

Kyminn was contrite. "Sorry. Honest. I'm just edgy and I guess I took it out on you."

Jareth relented. He snuffled gently against Kyminn's chest and his mind voice was quiet. : _Kyminn, what is really going on here? What is it that you are so afraid of?:_

His head was pressed against Jareth's cheek, hands gently stroking the glossy neck. A whisper, "I'm just an Animal Healer."

Jareth pulled back, gently. Blue eyes met green. : _You are a trained, very strongly gifted Healer of animals. You are also a trained herb healer and bone setter. Why does this upset you?:_

"Jareth, who treats the Companions? How may Animal Healers serve the Heralds?" the question was quiet.

Jareth was still. Kyminn felt his mind pull away, and realized that Jareth was speaking with the other Companions. Finally, the mind returned. : _None:_

"None. It's as my grandmother remembered. Jareth, say I go to Haven with you. Then what?"

 _:Then you talk to Healer's. You finish training in your gift and get your Greens.:_

"And then?" Kyminn was remorseless.

 _:What do you mean? Then you work as a Healer:_ An impatient swish of the tail. _:You don't have to work for the crown you know. A Healer can take any job. Healers work in temples, for nobles, for towns – like your mother and grandmother do. No one is going to make you stay in Haven if you don't want to._ :

"Don't you see Jareth? That's it. That's the problem. I'm a decent herb healer and bone setter. But if I'm wearing Greens, and people hear that I have a gift, they'll assume I can use it on people.

"Let's say I get a job at an estate. I don't want to spend the rest of my days tending to rich men's hunting horses and ladies pampered lap dogs. Or maybe I end up at one of Thenoth's temples. I might do more good there – the poor bring their milch cows in and so on, but mostly it would be more house pets. If I'm to stay at the temple, I'd eventually have to take vows, and that's not me, not my calling."

Jareth's mind voice was quiet, _:Is this what you want then?:_ An image of Oakden, seen through the Companion's eyes.

Kyminn considered it, saw his village as it must appear to others. Stout timber buildings, fitted and snug. The long drying sheds where the more valuable timbers were curing. On one side of the square, the shared workshops, where winter days were spent transforming exotic woods into beautiful cabinetry and furniture.

He saw too the packed earth main street, rutted from the spring rains and needing grading again. Rough homespun, clean but humble, bannered from laundry lines. Not fancy, but prosperous. Healthy, but…limited.

"Yes. No. Maybe? I just know that I don't want to be trapped. I want…purpose. Meaning. I want to contribute something. Does that make sense?"

 _:It makes a lot of sense. Kyminn, no one is going to force you to use your gift for_ this _purpose or_ that _purpose. As long as you don't use it for ill, or to break the laws of Valdemar, you are free to make the life you want. I can promise you – no one is going to force you to stay in Haven if you don't want that. You are welcome to bring Randen and Derris back with us, then turn and come straight back here.:_

Kyminn was silent. Jareth finally nudged him, literally and figuratively. _:What is it?:_

"Will I have to go to Healer's?"

Jareth's head came up in surprise. _:Why do you ask?:_

"I would just rather not. But Jannen mentioned something about having to make sure my Gifts were properly trained and under control. I just…would rather not have to go to Healer's."

Jareth cocked his head in surprise. : _I don't think I've ever met anyone who was reluctant to go to Healer's. Well, stubborn patients don't count. But definitely not another Healer.:_

Kyminn looked acutely uncomfortable. "My grandmother doesn't talk much about her time at Healer's. She'll talk about what she learned, what kind of classes and that sort of thing. She has a ton of stories about the antics of Heraldic and Bardic trainees. She's even got a few about pranks that Companions pulled. But…she doesn't take about the Healer trainees very much at all.

"I asked mother about it once. She said that some parts of the training were very difficult for her mother, that things got easier once she got into the field and they figured out just how much she could do with her gift."

"Jareth…I know that healing trainees wouldn't hurt people on purpose. But it's easy enough to hurt people by accident, by excluding them. My grandmother's gift wasn't enough to make her one of the "true" Healers, and just by having a gift set her apart from the herb healers."

He ran his hands gently over the velvety nose, then dropped them into his lap. "I'm not sure I want to go to a place that caused her to be so unhappy that she won't even speak about it, three decades later. To be honest, I think I sort of hate them a little bit."

 _:Don't hate. Be angry if you need to. But…don't hate. That's just you drinking poison and waiting for the other fellow to die. Decide what you're angry at, or about, and then decide if you are going to fix it, stay angry, or let it go. Own your anger and the action. But don't hate.:_

"Alright. No hate. But I'm still angry."

 _:Fair enough. How about this then – come with us to Haven, take care of Derris and Randen. It's going to take us nearly two moons to get there at the pace Derris can manage. We'll talk – you, me, Jannen, Randen. We'll help you decide what – or who – you need to be angry at and what – if anything – needs to be done. If the answer is "nothing can be done", then we have your Gifts tested at Herald's and you never set foot in Healer's. If the answer is "_ This _is why I am angry, and_ this _is what needs to happen" then we'll help you.:_

"And I don't have to go to Healer's unless it's MY decision?"

: _Your decision.:_

Kyminn chewed on his lower lip, deep in thought. "I think," it was hesitant, "That this is a decision I need to consider very carefully."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Kyminn wrapped his hands around the mug of tea, savoring the warmth in the cool of the morning. The healer's building had been his home for the past two years, and the comfortable familiarity of his grandmother's kitchen was soothing.

Anya settled in on the other side of the table, her own mug steaming in the sunlight. "I remember when you came here." A tug of smile at the memory.

"I was just thinking that. I felt so grown up, moving out of my parents' house Then I realized that if I move in with another member of the family, it probably doesn't count." He chuckled.

"Oh, I don't know. You've made your own place here." A pause. "When your grandfather died, you were just a toddler. I moved back in with your parents for a time. I always told her it was because she needed the help, but it was really because I didn't want to live here on my own. Too many memories of him." Her tone was wistful.

"I don't think you fooled her." His glance was warm. "I know she appreciated having you there. Between her, father and you, there was always someone who loved me any time I needed it."

Her voice roughened a bit. "That's what I wanted for you, for your siblings. I never wanted you to feel there was nobody there for you."

He looked down at the table, then raised the mug to his face with studied casualness. "Is that what happened to you?"

Anya slowly sat back in her chair. For a long time she regarded her grandson, her face a mixture of past sadness, pride and understanding.

"You're going then?"

"I think so. I have to go for Randen and Derris at any rate. I haven't yet decided if I'm going to Healer's or not."

A long, quiet sigh. "Kyminn, I…". She paused and gathered her words again. "Can you promise me that you will go with an open mind?"

"That's…not what I expected you to say." Surprise.

She shook her head. "Don't mistake me, I think there are still some flaws in how Healer's does things. I'm not asking you to believe it's perfect. But, by the same balance, I am asking you to accept that there is still a lot of good there. Don't judge yet."

Kyminn toyed with the mug, his voice troubled. "You never speak of your time there. It always seemed…painful. It's hard to accept that they could have left you leave there so…wounded."

"I'll grant you that. But…understand that I have come to realize that some of those wounds were self-inflicted."

Kyminn's head shot up as he stared at her, baffled.

A small smile. "Kyminn, I was the seventh daughter in my family. Just about a year after I was born, my twin sisters came along. A year and a half later, and my mother gave birth to her first boy – three of them. Can you imagine?"

Kyminn thought about life in their village, and the problems a family would face with six children under the age of three years in the home, along with an additional six daughters to raise.

Anya nodded at the expression on his face. "I am sure my parents wanted to love us. I'm sure that in their own way, they did. But trying to feed twelve children meant that my father worked from before dawn until long after dusk. He simply didn't have time for us. Once we were older, we could help with chores. By the time I was four, I was helping collect eggs for market." Anya shifted a bit in her chair.

"I don't think that I resent them, or at least I hope I don't. But I always knew that having us made things harder for them. Maybe it was a touch of Empathy mixed in with my healing gift, but I always knew how much of a demand we placed on them. For a long time, I was too small to be of much use, but the smaller babies needed my mother's attention more. I was…in between, and underfoot. I always felt like I was…extra."

"I'm sorry." Kyminn clasped her hand gently. "You don't have to tell me this."

A dry chuckle. "It was a very long time ago. I can rightfully only blame them for what happened before I left for Haven. Once I got there, and when I became an adult, then I have to accept responsibility for my decisions, for anything that I did – or didn't – do.

"So anyway, there I was. I'd just turned thirteen and was coming near to the end of my time at the temple. I know that Brother Lyman was letting me stay a bit longer than the law required. I'd finished all the mandatory schooling some months before, but Brother Lyman pretended not to notice. I think he knew that I was lost in the crowd at home and he was letting me have a bit of peace. I sometimes wonder if he wasn't letting me get in that extra bit so that I'd have a bit of an edge when it came time for me to marry, maybe someone a merchant or trader might want for a son, someone who would value a wife who could learn a bit of the business."

"When it turned out I had a Gift..." her voice was sad. "I think that's the only time I ever pleased my father. He wasn't a harsh man, he was just…distant. Trying to keep us all fed, and figure out how to provide good marriages for _nine_ daughters had sucked the life out of him I think. He tried to hide it, but knowing that there was one less mouth to feed, and one less marriage to worry about…he was relieved when I left. Guilty for feeling it, but relieved."

Anya got up and poured them both more tea. The homey task gave her an excuse to potter for a moment while she marshalled her feelings. "Healers was…everything that I wanted it to be, and nothing like I needed. Kym, it's hard to explain. I was used to being overlooked, to being in the way. Imagine a young girl, shy and not used to standing up for herself. At home there was always someone older who had more claim on something, or someone younger that she should share with because, well, they were younger and needed to be cared for. I fit right in with the chores, and I was a decent student. Not brilliant, but I knew how to work hard and I did honestly enjoy learning things. But overall…I just wasn't a very good Trainee I think."

"But you did the work, learned what you were supposed to. I'm guessing you weren't mean or fighting with the others. What do you mean by 'a bad Trainee'?" Kyminn was puzzled.

A shrug. "I wasn't very good with people Kym. I deferred to the older and I let the juniors walk all over me. When senior Trainees or Healers would get frustrated because I couldn't do what I was supposed to with my Gift, I believed them that it was me, that I was doing it wrong, or not trying hard enough. So I tried harder. But I was so used to not succeeding, to being the child that really wasn't good at anything, that I never asked for help. I never questioned that maybe it was the training, not the student. I never told them I was struggling."

"Since I was having such a hard time using my Gift, my teachers thought I'd do better with the ungifted Healers. And I loved the learning, it made sense to me to touch and see with my hands and normal senses how it all went together. I think there was a bit of my Gift acting there, because I would see how a joint fit back together just so and I'd feel an "aha!" that told me it was exactly right. Unfortunately, that success didn't last." She shook her head wryly.

"I've often thought that my Gift is so…diffuse…that it was a long time before I was actually shielding it properly. A jug holds cold water in, but the outside is still wet with condensation. So when I used herbs, or set bones, I knew what was right, what was working. But I couldn't explain it." She cocked her head with an ironic smile. "I actually failed my final written exams in bone setting and surgery, did you know that?"

A gape. "No, I had no idea. But…your Greens – they must have passed you…?"

"Oh they did – eventually. My teachers looked at what I had been doing up until that point and were quite aware that I knew what I was doing. Fortunately for me, they decided I must have been one of those people who just doesn't test well, who can't write the knowledge down. So they gave me a practical exam instead – which I passed with flying colours."

She settled beside him on the bench. "I learned a lot at Healer's, and I am grateful that it gave me the life I have. But it was a difficult, and very, very lonely five years."

Kyminn wrapped his grandmother in a hug for a long moment. It saddened him to realize how much more grey there was in her hair, to realize that her story was writing its last few chapters. He gently fussed with her braid a bit, tucking in the stray strands. "I promise," he said into her shoulder. "I promise to not judge until I see for myself."


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N I just want to thank everyone for their comments and follows to date. I'm trying to incorporate all the corrections and feedback that you provide. Thanks again!_

Chapter 14

Herald Tarva held a town meeting on the Heralds' third day in town. At her request, Merell had sent messages to outlying homesteads and forester camps. All persons over the age of seven years and not otherwise infirm were to attend. Such a request was the norm when the Heralds arrived on circuit. It was vital that news and information from the capital be given the widest possible audience. This commitment to maintaining an informed populace was one of the keystones of Valdemar's success amongst the peoples of Velgarth.

On this occasion, there was no ill news from Haven and the notices were, thankfully, routine in nature. Of particular welcome was word that the crown had opted to maintain an import tariff on certain kinds of timber, meaning that their own lumber still faced a competitive marketplace. Perhaps it was pleasure at the good news, or simply a reflection of Merell's leadership, but when Tarva called for anyone who wished to appeal to Herald's justice, there were no candidates.

Herald Tarva looked out over the crowd, and her businesslike demeanor warmed, signaling that the 'serious' portion of the meeting was over. "I would like," she said with a smile, "to address the Companion in the room." She gestured over to where Derris rested, supported between Bryann and Jareth. Randen, back in his whites for the occasion, sat in a padded chair beside him. A chuckle of laughter rolled through the crowd. Tarva's tone became serious again. "As you know, the crown makes provision for events like natural disasters, illnesses, and other untoward happenings. When an individual – or community – suffers a loss or shortage of livelihood through no fault of their own, the king can choose to adjust taxes accordingly. One of our duties as Heralds is to bring such situations to the king's attention and recommend adjustments." She looked over at Merell.

"In helping Herald Randen and the Companion Derris, the village of Oakden underwent a sennight when they were unable to see to the timbering that is their livelihood. Further, in conducting the rescue and healing, the village was not only dislocated, but used a significant amount of labour and resources." She gestured at the fresh timbers on the newly-replaced all of the town hall. "This includes damages to the structures of the community. As you know, when a business or town provides services to the Guard, a Herald or newly Chosen, the crown provides a chit for a reduction in taxes." She pulled a chit out of her pouch and handed it to Merell. "It is my judgement as a Herald that the people and community of Oakden be granted a one-third reduction in their taxes this year. This reflects not only the material and labour costs to the community, but also the courage and commitment of her people. The crown thanks you for your service to two of its own", and she gave Merell a formal bow, equal to equal.

The celebration and feast that followed this pronouncement lasted well into the night. Randen was somewhat bemused at the number of townsfolk who came to thank _him_ for everything he'd done. After the sixth or tenth person, he gave up pointing out that the thanks should properly go the other way around and simply said you're welcome. It didn't help that Derris was in a dryly witty mood and his pithy private comments often made it hard for Randen to keep a straight face.

Randen was feeling more tired than he had in weeks, but it was a pleasant kind of fatigue, born of good food and celebration instead of pain and fear. By the time Kyminn appeared out of the lamplight, Randen was more than ready to call it a night.

As Kyminn – as he did multiple times a day – checked to see how Derris was handling the strain, Randen prodded him. "So?"

Kyminn glanced back over his shoulder, as though weighing his answer. "You probably already know that I've spoken to Tarva and Jannen."

Randen shook his head. "Actually, I hadn't. They've been busy with Merell and making arrangements for the trip back."

"I had a long talk with my grandmother, and with Jareth." If this surprised Randen, he didn't show it, but let his silence give Kyminn a place to continue.

"I will be going back with you." A small, unhappy shrug. "I accept that it's really the only option. You two need me, so I need to go." He dropped down on the ground beside Randen's seat. "I guess I always knew that at some point, I might be asked – or sent – to Haven for training or assessment. I admit I was hoping to avoid it. But," another of his eloquent shrugs, "it's been necessary, so I'm going. However," his gaze was level and cool, "that doesn't mean that I've agreed to have _anything_ to do with Healer's. I've agreed not to judge, but the reverse of that is that I get to have time to see for myself before I make any decisions. Jareth has agreed."

"It's not many people who attempt to negotiate with a Companion." Randen threw a wry glance at Derris. "Fewer still who actually win."

 _:He didn't win.:_ Jareth's voice made Kyminn twitch in surprise but hearing a strange Companion in his head caused _Randen_ to yelp in shock. Kyminn couldn't help laughing at Randen's stunned expression.

 _:He didn't win:_ Jareth repeated. _:There was nothing to win or lose. We talked and Kyminn had some reasonable concerns so we addressed them.:_ A mental sniff. _:I'm not sure why you both seem so surprised at the notion that we can be reasonable.:_

"Perhaps," Randen muttered, "It's because I've met too many Companions. You lot have always got something going on tucked under your tails there."

Jareth didn't bother to dignify that with a response.

Scene Break

The party left a day later than planned, five days after the Heralds and Companions arrived in Oakden. Part of Tarva's message to Captain Anden was a request for supplies as well as advising him when she would be sending his three guardsmen back to the garrison. That Captain Anden had given her request a great deal of thought was evidenced by what he'd sent in response to her note.

 _"_ _Herald Tarva, you requested a wagon and two horse team be sent to transport Herald Randen as neither he is yet able to ride nor is the Companion Derris fit to be ridden. I have taken the liberty of expanding on your orders in what I hope is an intelligent and acceptable fashion. I hope that this serves Herald Randen well._

 _Last fall we arrested a so-called 'free-trader' who was more interested in making free with other's goods than in honest trade. After his arrest, our investigation determined that the amount that he'd stolen far exceeded the coin on his person. He was transported to the magistrate and convicted of theft. The magistrate ordered his goods be auctioned off and the proceeds distributed to his victims. Unfortunately, we were not able to find a buyer who could afford to purchase the wagon and team. So the Guard did, on behalf of the crown. It had been my intention to send it on to Haven later this year with the Guardsmen being posted._

 _I thought that this was a good solution for all. I'm sure Herald Randen will find it more comfortable than a standard supply wagon."_

The wagon in question wasn't as big as a family size trade wagon, but it was definitely a step up from riding on the bench of supply wagon and sleeping in a tent. The rear was a wood frame with an oiled canvas cover. Clever bins and cabinets lined the frame and a small brazier provided heat for warmth and cooking. Most importantly, the wagon was deep in the frame, well sprung and with a low wagon-bed. A clever set of folding stairs meant that Randen would be able – slowly – to climb in and out by himself. There was only a single bunk, but there was ample space beneath the wagon, provided one didn't sit up too suddenly.

Finding themselves with a four horse team instead of two, and with a covered wagon instead of an open bed, the group spent an extra day reorganizing and repacking their supplies. By the time they rolled out of Oakden, Kyminn was almost relieved. Almost.

"You know," he said thoughtfully to Randen, beside him on the driver's bench. "I'm still not sure this is a good idea."

"If you turn back now, you'll have four Companions mad at you." Randen pointed out. "Plus your grandmother."

"Several thousand weight of angry, rampaging, intelligent, war-trained horseflesh? No problem. My grandmother, on the other hand…".


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

As the town disappeared behind the trees, the travelers dropped into silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Jannen and Niko foraged ahead, checking the road and taking advantage of the Companion's speed and mobility.

Jareth, Derris and Bryann came next, Derris slung between the other two Companions. His sling had been carefully adjusted so that he could take some of his weight on his hale three legs and ease the burden. Jareth and Bryann fell naturally into a perfectly matched pace, smooth and steady, with only Derris's off-beat step a discord to their perfectly synchronized cadence.

Kyminn handled the wagon, partly by rein, partly with a light mind-touch on the team. Randen was, for the time being, on the front bench with Kyminn. However, in spite of the wagon being excellently sprung, it was clear that his repaired pelvis would not tolerate it for more than a mark or so.

Jannen dropped back beside the wagon while Niko made a game of matching his steps to those of the other Companions.

"There's a Waystation up the way a fair bit. Tarva and I stayed there on our way up. At normal Companion speed, it's a day's journey." Jannen looked askance at Kyminn.

"And clearly we won't be travelling at anything like that speed," Kyminn confirmed. "Even for Companions, slinging another Companion for that long is a tremendous strain. Jareth and Bryann will need to rest. In addition, both Derris and Randen will need to rest and stretch three or four times a day – at least at first. I'm afraid that we're looking at about three-fourths a day's travel, at regular horse rates."

A nod. "That's about what I expected. I'm glad we're so well equipped for camping. I'll go on ahead and find a good place for the first rest break." With a jaunty salute, he and Niko departed on their self-appointed mission.

Randen sighed. "I knew it was going to be a long trip, but hearing it makes it seem even slower. I think that all those years of Derris and I dashing about may have spoiled me!"

"Not to worry," Kyminn chuckled. "Things will get better as you and Derris get back into shape. When we stop, I've got a surprise for you."

"No offense Kyminn, but there's been rather a lot of surprises so far this year. Not sure I'm up for another one."

"You'll like this one." And Kyminn refused to say anything more on the subject.

Two marks later, they rounded a bend to where a glade widened the road. Niko grazed while Jannen waited for them. The two had returned to the wagon a short while before and taken the canvas buckets, now filled with cool water and waiting for them.

"There's a stream back there that the Companions can reach. I thought we'd leave the horses hitched for now?" His tone made it a question.

Kyminn swung his leg over and dropped to the ground. "That should be fine. Derris needs to do some stretches and stand for a bit. That frees up Jareth and Bryann to go get a drink." He pointed at Randen. "Stay there. I've got something for you."

'Something' turned out to be a pair of crutches. They were beautiful examples of a tool made by a master craftsman. The shafts were fine grained oak, burnished to a gloss, while the braces were a dark wood, purple tinged and swirling with whorls. Even the feet were works of art, four iron claws turned under forming a grip for rough ground. With them were hard leather cases to put over the feet for use indoors. Leather hand grips and padded rests, dyed blue and wrapped with bright wire shone in the morning sunlight.

Randen ran his hands down the shaft, his fingers tracing the relief carving of a Companion that adorned it. His voice was rough. "I don't know what to say."

Kyminn gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to say anything. Pell asked us to have something for you before you left and this is what they made. It doesn't make up for the loss of your leg, I know that. This is Oakden's way of saying sorry, and thank you."

Randen gave a wobbly smile and carefully eased himself down from the bench. His delight at once again standing on his own was obvious.

That break set the pattern for their day. Jannen would find a suitable resting spot and have water and grain waiting for them. Randen and Derris would get a chance to rest, exercise and get a massage for their healing muscles. Still, by the end of the day, Randen's hip was telling him it was past time to get off the front bench, no matter how well padded.

When they stopped for the evening, they fell into the needed chores with little fuss. Jannen took care of Niko, Bryann and two of the horses while Kyminn did the same for the other four-footed travelers. Randen was at first a little startled when Kyminn insisted on unslinging Derris right beside the wagon, until Kyminn casually put a curry comb in his hand. "You can stand. He can stand. He's right in front of you. Go ahead and care for your Companion."

Randen was still unable to walk, as was Derris, and neither was strong enough for Randen to complete the Companion's care. Kyminn quietly helped him finish, grinning as Randen laughed at something Derris said. They were healing.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The next two weeks proved to be almost idyllic. The weather remained steady and the roads proved to have been recently maintained. Little by little, Randen and Derris continued to improve. Each could now take a few small steps and Randen now needed very little help in caring for Derris. Derris was still not able to walk far enough to graze, so Kyminn and Jannen spent time each evening gathering forage for him. Derris was strong enough to lie down without help, but he needed Jareth and Bryann's assistance in getting to his feet. On that point, Kyminn brooked no argument. Two things, he had pointed out, put the most strain on an equine shoulder – jumping and climbing. That included climbing to one's feet and Derris would not be rising to his own feet for quite some time yet.

As Randen slowly regained his mobility, he developed a tendency to retreat into a pensive silence. At these times, he would seek out Jannen and the two Heralds would spend an evening in quiet conversation. Kyminn didn't mind and told Derris so. "I don't know what the future holds for Randen as a Herald. That's something that I can't help him with. Jannen's exactly who he _should_ be talking with right now." Derris gently whiffed in Kyminn's hair, a rare gesture on the part of the normally reserved Companion. Kyminn smiled and scratched Derris's chin, forbearing to mention that he was also keeping an Empathic 'eye' on Derris as means of minding Randen's mental state.

 _Scene Break_

"No, you'll want to hold the reins like this, pull a bit more in with your left hand. That's got it, feel the difference?"

Randen had never driven a four horse team before – actually, he'd never driven any team before – and Kyminn was helping him learn.

"What if they take off? I don't think my shoulder is strong enough for me to pull them in," Randen's tone was decidedly dubious.

"Two things. First, it's smart of you to think like that, to figure out where a problem might come up and if and how to manage it. But that's probably a Herald thing, right?"

Randen snorted. "Yes. Anticipating trouble is kind of a 'Herald thing.'"

"Second, Animal Mindspeech, remember? I'm actually a bit linked to them. No, I'm not controlling them, you are. But if anything happens, I can take over in an instant, and more effectively than using reins. I…" Kyminn spasmed and the team skidded to a stop.

"Kyminn? What…?" Randen cried in alarm. _:Derris! Call Jannen!:_

Kyminn waved an arm weakly and vomited over the side of the wagon. He half climbed, half tumbled to the ground, one arm wrapped protectively around his midriff. He dropped to his knees, swearing under his breath. "Shield dammit, shield!" His voice was a barely articulate hiss.

Niko burst out of the surrounding greenery, Jannen crouched low over his withers. A strung bow, arrow nocked, was in his hands. "What happened?!"

"You did", Kyminn ground out the words.

Jannen flicked his eyes from Kyminn and Randen and back again. "I…what…?" He was clearly bewildered.

Kyminn sucked in a deep breath. Then another. His hands slowly unclenched. He breathed again. "You. Went. Hunting." His hand unwrapped from his stomach to point to the coney hanging from Niko's saddlebow.

"I…yes…" Jannen was still confused.

Kyminn looked up at him, his eyes sick and weary, all the anger drained. "Animal Foresight. Animal Mindspeech. Animal Healing. Animal _Empathy._ Jannen, my shields were down, monitoring Derris and the horses when you took that rabbit."

The blood drained from both Herald's faces. Jannen looked ill. "Oh gods Kyminn I'm sorry. I…I'm so sorry. I…forgot." Jannen fell to his knees beside Kyminn. "I…you eat meat all the time and I forgot that the report mentioned your other Gifts. Dear gods, can you forgive me?"

"Yes, I eat meat. And generally, I don't Feel small game. It's just that I've been keeping my shields thin to mind Derris and the horses, as well as reaching out to the local wildlife to make sure the area is secure…." wanly, "at home I usually make myself scarce during slaughtering season. And I really avoid hunting."

Jannen looked stricken. He looked over at the rabbit and swallowed convulsively. "What….?" The question trailed off.

Kyminn climbed to his feet and silently offered Jannen a hand. "It would be beyond wrong for you to waste that rabbit." His voice was grey. "However, I hope you both will understand if I go for a walk while you two eat." Another deep breath. "It's okay Jannen. It was a mistake. But I'd really like to call it a day if that's alright?"

Both Heralds nodded. Jannen indicated the team. "Go. I'll take care of things here."

Kyminn nodded his thanks and headed up the road. In the dappled light, he suddenly looked very young.

 _Scene Break_

 _:This isn't the first time this has happened, is it?:_ Jareth's mind voice was gentle.

Kyminn didn't look up from where he sat under the tree, arms curled around his knees. "No. It's happened a few times."

Jareth lowered himself to the ground, his shoulder beside Kyminn. A hand crept out and stroked the white velvet body.

 _:I'm sorry.:_

"For what? It's not your fault. "

An equine shrug. _:Neither Heralds nor Companions are perfect, but we DO try to do the right things you know. That includes not causing people mental trauma.:_

"I know." Kyminn raised his head from his knees, his chin resting on his arms. "The first time was when I was twelve. We were eating breakfast when I got this sudden attack of the screaming horrors. Blood, pain, fear, fire. It was…pretty awful." He paused. "No one knew what to do at first. It was Grandmother who realized I was reacting to something in my head, something not from outside. She dosed me until I passed out.

"It was swine slaughtering season, and by the time I woke up, it was all over so none of my Gifts triggered. So we still didn't know what was going on. A few days later, the men decided to go deer hunting. And it happened again." His eyes were seeing something from long ago. "That one was even worse. It felt like I was being gutted myself. I think it was me screaming about being skinned that made Grandmother realize I was reacting to the hunting. She shielded me and then showed me how to shield myself. After that, we just figured out the Gifts as they appeared."

Jareth bent his head around, blue eyes locked onto Kyminn's. _:Kyminn, your shields are…not very strong. Certainly not what I would consider strong enough for your Gifts. You need training, badly.:_

"I know. It's never, ever been this bad before. I'm not sure why a rabbit was so awful." He shuddered in memory. "I will get trained, somehow, by someone. I promise. I don't want to go through anything like that again." He glanced up at the westering sun. "I guess I should get back."

 _:Wait a bit yet. Niko will let me know when they're ready for you. Rest. I'm not going anywhere.:_

A small smile. "Your Chosen is going to be a very lucky person when the time comes."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The next few days were a strain for everyone. Kyminn, haunted by flashes of memory, struggled to manage his anger at Jannen's lapse. A part of him felt that a Herald, of all people, should have known better when it came to dealing with the Gifts of those around him.

Jannen, for his part, felt equal parts guilt at having hurt Kyminn and anger at Kyminn's stiff silences. His Heraldic tendency to decisive leadership and problem solving collided with the knowledge that he was wholly at fault and the fact that Kyminn was not responding to his apologies. He met Kyminn's stiffness with a cold professionalism that was painful to watch.

Randen, for his part, tried to avoid both of them, as much as a mobility impaired person could. He'd made exactly one attempt to mediate and then washed his hands of the affair. He simply addressed both of them as though they were normal, civilized persons and refused to take sides or pass messages. He also spent a lot of time venting to Derris.

 _:If this were a tale, someone would have knocked their heads together by now.:_ Randen was tart.

 _:And forced them to sit down and solve their problems. Possibly with a club.:_ Derris sounded like the club part was profoundly appealing.

 _:If this were a tale, there would be a big crisis that would cause everyone to unite to save the day.:_

 _:And forget they were mad at each other.:_ Derris was sarcastic.

 _:Don't forget 'Live happily ever after.'_. Randen added helpfully.

 _:If this were a tale, everyone would wake up one morning and realize they'd been idiots and go make nice.:_ Derris swished his tail with irritation.

 _:If this were a tale, a Bard would come along and sing a witty song that would open their eyes.:_ Randen's mind voice had a decidedly unforgiving tone. _:And it would be a REALLY bad song, with terrible rhyme…:_

 _:…and yet a catchy tune and really sing-able lyrics…:_ Derris was enthusiastic.

 _:That EVERYONE sang, over and over.:_

 _:And they could never, ever get away from it, so they were constantly reminded what pains in the tails they'd been!:_ Derris crowed.

Randen burst out laughing, joined by Derris's gleeful whicker.

Kyminn looked at him askance. "What's so funny?"

"We were just talking about how if this were a tale, all the things that would happen to make you and Jannen start getting along again," a grin was evident in his voice.

"I see," Kyminn said frostily, his eyes fixed on the road.

"My favorite involved a really bad Bard and a really obnoxious song", Randen added helpfully.

A slow turn of the head and a completely puzzled expression. "A…what?"

"A bad song. You know, how in tales the hero hears some song that reminds him of his lost love, or his mission to save the world, or something? In this case, a bad song that reminds you two how annoying you're being. A bad song, but so catchy that you can't get away from it, reminding you over and over how unhelpful and frustrating this is."

Kyminn stared at him for a long moment. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Tried again. Finally, he just shook his head and went back to driving.

Some hours later, Kyminn broke the silence.

"Tell me about Haven." It was impossible to tell if it was an effort at conciliation or avoidance of the former topic.

A blink. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. We passed the farthest point I'd ever travelled back on the fourth day. This is all new to me. I'd like to know what to expect."

"Well…", the response was thoughtful. "I grew up in Haven, did you know that?"

It was Kyminn's turn to be surprised. "No, I didn't. Or if I did, I'd forgotten."

"Well, it's sort of relevant to how I try to describe it. I was used to it, so the size and number of people weren't an adjustment like they were to some of my year-mates. Almost the reverse was true – I'd never been around as much green open space as when I got to the Collegium. I actually found the woods really creepy at first."

That drew a startled bark of laughter. "You were afraid of the woods?"

Randen bristled defensively, "Not afraid, exactly. Just…not used to anything bigger than a public park."

"That's…hard to picture. Both anyone not having seen forests before and _you_ finding it intimidating. You Heralds always seem so…confident."

Randen's smile was wry. "I can assure you that we don't necessarily start out confident. There's pretty near as much difference in personalities between Heralds as there is anywhere else." He paused, musing. "As for being confident, I suppose it's a combination of things. First is our Companions. Having someone always there, at your back, makes a tremendous difference. A Herald may not be around other people, but he or she is never, ever, _alone._ Having someone to discuss ideas and decisions with, someone whose perspective you can trust…that's a huge part of it.

"The rest is training. We spend years learning about Valdemar, the people, the places, the laws and our role. We get hands on practice and mentoring. We learn what our abilities and duties are and learn to trust our judgement." A shrug. "I think it's one of the parts of being Chosen that no one really thinks about – that a person who could never develop that level of judgement and trustworthiness would ever get Chosen."

"Do Heralds ever…have doubts?" Kyminn shot the Herald a look. "I mean, if that's not a rude question."

Headshake. "No, not rude, and yes, we do. Especially at the start. At some point or another, I think most trainees feel overwhelmed, like they will never learn everything they need or be good enough. I think we all wake up, terrified by the knowledge that people are going to trust us, look to us, expect things of us." His voice got quiet. "It's humbling and terrifying." He shook it off. "But, we have our Companions. Derris helped me get my head around it. It's like…when you see an injured creature, you _know_ that you can Heal it. You feel it, like you feel your own heartbeat, yes?"

Kyminn nodded.

"A Companion _knows_ that we have it in us – the ability to develop that judgement, that commitment to the land and people of Valdemar. That's part of what makes them Choose someone."

"Are they ever wrong?"

"Once." Randen's voice was bleak. "A very long time ago. A young trainee became…damaged…by hatred, irredeemably so. His Companion severed their bond. She repudiated him. They…both died."

"I'm sorry."

Randen passed him a wan smile. "Don't be. As I said, it was a very long time ago. We don't talk about it much, but the events are part of our training, as a warning."

"I understand." Kyminn deliberately changed the subject. "Anyway…Haven?"

"Haven. Hmmm. You know the hillside you pointed out to me once? The one where you said last year's timbering camp was?"

"Sure, the western slope. Beautiful maple on that slope."

"Picture that entire slope filled with buildings. All of it. Every foot covered in stone buildings."

Kyminn struggled to picture it. "I'm not sure there's that much building stone in the world to cover that much space!"

"There is – and lots more!" Randen laughed. "Now, picture the fall fair at Knowles Crossing. The crowds, the heat, the smells, the noise. The whole slope is like that. People, animals, carts, buildings – all of it jumbled together."

A shake of the head. "I can, sort of, get an idea of the scale. I expect the experience will be quite something else again!"

Kyminn spent the rest of the afternoon peppering Randen with questions about Haven. Randen, for his part, was able to explain the different districts, how the Guard kept the peace, why the streets were laid out in a tangle. It turned out he had a whole bagful of stories about people and places in the city and the Colleges. He had Kyminn in stitches at a story involving some Heraldic trainees, a sack of flour, some house pets and a very irate painter. They were still laughing when they pulled up to Jannen and Niko at that evening's rest stop.

"I'm glad you found something funny," Jannen's nod to Kyminn was coolly polite.

Kyminn cocked his head at Jannen, then as an aside to Randen, "What year did you say this happened?"

Randen beamed innocently. "I believe that event happened to some of Jannen's year mates during their third year."

Jannen gave Randen a withering glare. "You didn't."

Randen contrived to look even more innocent. "I never said you were involved…".

"I wasn't!"

"But it _did_ happen to _your_ year mates. And you have to admit, everyone is still telling that story."

"I think I still have scars from trying to wash purple painted flour-paste out of the kitchen cats," Jannen grumbled. "I'm still not clear on why the whole class had to help clean up the mess."

"Something about a betting pool, I believe Dean Elcarth said." Randen grinned saucily.

Jannen started to retort, then deflated. "Fine. I guess." He eyed Kyminn sourly. "I suppose hearing about my youthful indiscretions makes you even more certain that my judgement is lacking."

Kyminn looked away for a moment, his face working. Finally, he locked his gaze on Jannen. "No," he said levelly, it doesn't." The youth glanced over at Jareth, impatiently waiting to be unhitched. "Jareth has been giving me the cold shoulder for the last several days now. I gather he questions _my_ judgement." A sarcastic snort, "Actually, I suspect he thinks I'm a bit of an ass."

"Not sure I'd use _that_ term," Randen murmured quietly.

"I don't have to doubt," Jannen muttered. Kyminn began to bridle, but Jannen continued, "I've been getting an earful from Niko and he _definitely_ thinks you're being an ass. Of course, he thinks _I'm_ being an ass too."

Randen smothered a cough and seemed to find the tail of the horse in front of him absolutely riveting.

"What you did was really awful, Jannen."

"I know. I'm sorry. I can't take it back. I wish I could."

Kyminn looked away again and sighed. "I'm still sort of mad about it."

"I know," dryly.

"And I _have_ been an ass."

Randen smothered another cough. "Little bit."

"I'll try to do better, alright?"

Jannen nodded. "Deal." Niko paced over until the Herald was beside Kyminn. "You have a right to be angry. Just…make up your mind. If what I did was unforgiveable, then say so. We'll work together until Haven, then you can go your own way and hate my guts until your dying breath. Otherwise, start working through it and move on. Your choice."

"'Hate your guts until my dying breath'? Going a bit far, don't you think?" Kyminn ventured.

Jannen cocked his head and said seriously. "Is it? It's all about proportion Kyminn. You're a fairly black and white person, did you know that? And you have a tendency to hold grudges. Fortunately, you're fundamentally a fair and compassionate person. I'd hate to see what kind of person you'd be if you had a mean streak."

"Hey! That's not fair. I'm the injured party here, or did you forget that?" Kyminn was stung.

Unperturbed, Jannen pointed out "I absolutely haven't forgotten it. I know I was completely in the wrong. I'm doing everything in my power to apologize and make amends. What I don't know is if you are ever going to accept that. Maybe there's something else going on, I have no way of knowing, but you're holding on to being mad like a starving dog holds a juicy bone!"

The glade was silent, aside from the occasional jingle of harness and a single brave jay in the distance. Kyminn stared at his hands, tracing the lines of dirt from the day's travels. "I'm trying. And I'll continue to try. I know it was a mistake, an accident. I know that me being angry has a lot to deal with…other things…than a brief lapse of memory on your part." He tilted his head up. "And I promise to try really hard not be an ass while I figure things out."

Jannen blew out his breath in a gust. "I can live with that."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"You know," Randen sounded dubious, "I think our luck may be about to run out."

Kyminn looked up from the shirt he was mending. He'd snagged it on a branch a couple of days before and in spite of the jostling of the wagon bench, his stitching wasn't all that horrible. "What do you…oh."

The 'oh' was for the ugly looking clouds moving down in on them from the southern horizon. "I see what you mean. And just last night we were congratulating ourselves on how we haven't had anything more than a brief shower so far."

"Derris says that Jannen's found a place for us to hole up. It's a couple of miles up the road though. Any chance we can speed up?"

Kyminn looked at the sky, then considered his patient. "Derris will be alright as long as they stick to the road. Go on! We'll catch up!" he called ahead to the three Companions.

Jareth flicked an ear in acknowledgement and the three launched into a canter as though sprung, Derris awkward in his tripod gait.

Randen flicked the reins and the horses broke into a brisk trot, restive with the change in the weather.

"Are you okay if I climb back and start breaking out the wet weather gear?" Kyminn balled up the shirt. Mending was going to wait.

Randen nodded, all his attention on driving. "Can you…?" He jerked a chin at the team.

"No problem. I'll keep an eye on them in case anything happens, but it looks like you've got this." Kyminn crawled off the bench and into the bed of the wagon, praying that they wouldn't hit a bump at the wrong moment.

By the time they pulled up to the campsite, Jannen had already unslung the Companions and they were grazing, taking advantage of the brief lull before the weather set in. Kyminn began tossing gear out of the wagon, mostly oiled canvas for rigging shelters for the horses and Companions. He'd also managed to get grain measured out into feed bags for everyone.

"Kyminn, can you help me with this pen?" Jannen had cut brush and was enlarging a clearing to create a shelter for the horses.

Together, they lashed saplings and piled brush to create a barrier to confine the horses, then strung oiled canvas over top as shelter.

"Kyminn!" Randen's shout was distinctly frustrated. "I don't have time to keep trying this over and over. Can you get the team to back the wagon in please!"

Kyminn closed his eyes, his hands holding invisible reins as he reached out to the team. A pull ahead, a turn, straight back, there. Done! Randen waved his thanks and carried on setting up the wagon.

Jannen grinned at him. "I must say Kyminn, that from time to time you are a most useful fellow, aren't you?"

"One tries, Herald," Kyminn said dryly, his eyes twinkling.

Randen, hobbling slowly, was able to unhitch the team from the wagon while the other two finished the shelter for the Companions. The brush they piled around the outside was strictly for keeping the rain out, certainly not for keeping the Companions _in_!

They were still only partly finished when the skies opened up. They were soaked within moments and by the time the shelters were complete and sufficient forage cut, they were, as Jannen put it, "More mud than man at this point."

"I believe," Kyminn breathed, accepting the mug of tea and bowl of soup that Randen handed him, "That you are officially my favorite Herald on the planet."

"Hey! What about me! I was out there in the rain too you know!" Jannen's attempt at 'hurt dignity' was spoiled by the fact that he was wrapped in a chirra-wool blanket with gaudy slippers on his feet. He too was wrapped comfortably around a mug of tea.

A shrug, since he was too busy inhaling soup. "He's a Herald. You, as you pointed out, are more mud than man, so you don't count." He caught the other Heralds' eyes and the three of them burst out laughing.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. The interior of the wagon was shortly festooned with wet gear and the distinct smell of wet wool and wet horse. They scraped off what mud the could, in the knowledge that they would have to do a better job when space and weather permitted. The wagon was far too small to sleep the three of them, but the space under the wagon provided ample room for Jannen and Kyminn. Randen had taken the time to lay out a piece of canvas and toss their bed rolls down before the weather broke.

"You know," Jannen mused, pulling on a latch in the floor, "I'm not sure why the former owner felt it necessary to have a door in the _bed_ of his wagon, but I suspect it had a lot to do with him being able to slip out by means other than the door. But I, for one, am very glad that I can go _down_ to my bedroll instead of _outside_ in the _rain_ to my bedroll!"

 _Scene Break_

The nearby _CRACK_ of thunder woke Kyminn and he shot bolt upright, smashing his head against the underside of the wagon. His yelp of pain was drowned out by screams from the wagon above. An answering equine bugle echoed from the enveloping darkness.

"NO!" Kyminn added his own shrieks to those of man and beast. He and Jannen collided in a welter of limbs and movement as they scrambled into the open.

"You get Derris! I'll get Randen!" the Herald had to shout to make himself heard. Kyminn didn't bother to reply, darting off through the sheeting rain.

The lightning turned their camp into a garish picture show of rain and shadow and enraged Companion.

Derris was halfway to his feet, frozen where Kyminn had locked his muscles when he realized that the Companion was trying to rise. Muscles bunched and strained under the white hide and blue eyes glared hate at the healer.

 _:YOU WILL NOT KEEP ME FROM MY CHOSEN!:_ The unfamiliar mind voice was a bass roar in Kyminn's head, waves of desperation and rage battering against Kyminn's will. Another equine scream of rage shattered the night.

"Stop! Let me help you get up! You're going to cripple yourself!" Kyminn reached out desperately, trying to make some part of Derris hear him.

A squeal and white teeth closed on Kyminn's sleeve, leaving a deep gouge in the skin beneath. Kyminn staggered back, away from the white tower of fury.

 _:CHOSEN!:_ Derris's call filled every mind in the camp. Kyminn staggered again, while the horses squealed in panic. Two Companions, Kyminn couldn't tell who, vaulted the brush wall and charged towards the flailing beasts.

 _:He can't hear you! And he's not listening to us! He's blocked us out!:_ Jareth had left the shelter and taken up station behind Kyminn, trying to get Derris's attention, to bring his focus back to the here and now.

Certainty blossomed in Kyminn's consciousness, pulling his attention away from Derris. "Jareth! Tell them to force Shadow, that dark bay, into the corner! He's the one that's going to bolt! He's the one that's going to get the others hurt!"

As his Foresight claimed its sip of his strength, Kyminn's gift wavered, just enough.

Derris surged against Kyminn's bonds, struggling to gain his feet, forelegs spread, shoulders bunching with the strain.

Jareth darted forward, locked chest to chest with Derris, pushing Derris's weight backwards, his own forequarters forming a living brace to replace Derris's fragile strength as the Companion gained his feet.

They stood like that, an unnatural tableau. Two Companions chest to chest, one trying to force his way forward, the other holding him back. Derris bugled his fury again as Kyminn's gift reclaimed him.

It felt like forever. Kyminn didn't know what to do, how to reach Derris, how to keep him from permanently maiming himself.

"Kyminn!" Niko skidded to a stop with Jannen clasping a shivering, blank faced Randen before him.

"Get him on Derris!" Kyminn gestured for Niko to move up beside the other Companion.

"Are you sure?!"

"No! I think I can protect Derris, and it's all I can think of to help them both!"

Jannen nodded and together, the two of them wrestled Randen onto his Companion. The Herald's breath was rapid and his eyes glassy, his movements unnaturally clumsy and uncertain.

Slowly, with Randen draped over Derris and a Companion on either side, the bedraggled group made their way the few paces to the Companions' shelter, Kyminn forcing Derris to take only the smallest of steps. Kyminn was swaying on his feet by the time the journey was done.

They settled Randen in beside Derris, the other Companions forming a protective wall of warm flesh around the wounded pair. Jannen disappeared briefly, then returned with bedding for Randen and dry blankets for the Companions. Kyminn simply slumped against a tree, numb and aching.

"Let's get you back inside," Jannen reached down an arm to pull Kym up behind him. Kyminn roused himself enough to ask, "The horses?" He tried to reach out with his mind and cried out at the pain of it.

"Niko says they're okay now. Bryann did a good job of getting them settled." Jannen twisted back with concern. "How are you?"

"Stinking awful," came the gasped response. "If I tell you what to brew, can you do that?"

Kyminn didn't remember being helped off Niko and into the back of the wagon. He roused long enough to tell Jannen which herbs to brew for Randen and which to brew for Kyminn himself. Opening his eyes, even in the dim lamplight, caused stomach churning pain, so he simply curled up and waited.

"Kyminn," a hand gently shook his shoulder. "Kyminn, you need to sit up. You need to drink this. And…oh my. You need stitches." A cloth blotted at the wetness on his face, then again at the pain in his arm.

Kyminn fumbled for the mug. "Do you need my help?" His voice was slurred with the pain of his concussion and the reaction headache.

"No Kyminn. You've done enough. I've got this." Jannen's voice grew distant as blessed oblivion claimed him.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N Sorry about the delay in updating. Much as I love spending time with Kyminn and Anya, I have other responsibilities that have claimed my attention of late. Life._

Chapter 19

Several hours later, Kyminn found himself wakened to drink another mug of the infusion. The issue of whether the roaring in his ears came from within his mind or from the rain outside seemed vaguely important and he vainly tried to remember why it mattered. He was still trying to puzzle it out when he slipped back into sleep.

The second time he awoke, it was much quieter, both inside and out. He blinked in the gloom, unable to tell if it was late in the day or still overcast. An injudicious movement awoke the pain in his head and his arm, drawing a muffled grunt of discomfort.

The curtain to the alcove-bunk twitched aside to reveal Jannen's worried face.

"Kyminn? How are you?" Strong arms reached in to help him sit up.

"What…?" Kyminn was muzzy and inarticulate.

Jannen correctly interpreted the mumble as a request for information. "It's early evening, a couple hours before dark. Randen is still in with Derris and they seem to be doing alright. Niko says that Derris's shoulder is sore, but we're not sure if he injured it or just overused it."

Kyminn nodded, the fog slowly clearing as he finished waking up. He raised a hand to his forehead, gingerly fingering the stitches and lump there. He winced.

Jannen silently handed him the polished piece of metal they used for shaving. "Want to check my work?"

The healer carefully inspected the line of stitches running across his brow. "Not bad, all things considered." He carefully unwrapped his arm and explored the wound on his forearm. He tried to flex his arm and grimaced at the taut flesh. "It's going to be a little while before I do any heavy lifting." He slowly swung his feet off the bunk.

"Are you sure you should be getting up?" Jannen was hesitant. "You've slept nearly a full day."

A rueful smile. "I think this is where I ask for a little help. I'll be moving a bit slowly, but you'll be happy to know that I'm well enough to use the jakes without assistance."

Together, they got Kyminn to his feet and out to the latrine. True to his word, he was able to accomplish the task without any further assistance from the Herald.

"How's your head? Do you need more of the infusion?"

Kyminn shook his head, which proved injudicious when he wobbled a bit. Jannen grabbed him and held him until he was steady again.

"Right now my gift is…numb…I guess is the best way to put it." Kyminn's face took on an abstracted look as he felt around inside his own head. "Any time that I even _think_ about using it I get a headache. Another one, I mean." He gently rubbed the lump on his head again.

"Pretty normal for a reaction headache, especially given how severely you overused your Gift." Jannen helped Kyminn take a seat on the wagon steps.

"I…really don't know much about this kind of injury," the healer confessed. "It isn't anything that Grandmother really encountered."

Jannen looked thoughtful, dredging up lessons from his long-ago training. "A Gift is like a lake of power in the mind. Streams – channels – lead from that lake of power. Each channel is a different Gift. Sometimes the streams are powerful – channels wide open, other times they are smaller, like your grandmother's." He looked at Kyminn to make sure the youngster was following. At Kyminn's careful nod, the Herald continued.

"Sometimes, a person tries to force too much power through the channel. When that happens, the channel becomes damaged, causing a real, if unseen, injury. And to answer your question, yes, such an injury can permanently damage a person's ability to use their gift, or it can kill them."

Kyminn was chalk white. "Am I…?" he couldn't finish.

The Herald latched on to Kyminn's shoulders and forced the healer to meet his gaze. "You. Have. Not. Destroyed. Your. Gift." Each word was chopped, final.

"How do you know?" came the anguished whisper.

"Because I've seen lots of reaction headaches. Granted, yours is one of the worst I've seen, but you are recovering normally. Do you hear that? Normally. You _can_ feel your Gift still, yes?"

The briefest of nods.

"If you had destroyed your channels, you wouldn't be able to do that. In fact, you wouldn't be able to stand upright!" Jannen's took on the familiar, unfocused 'speaking to a Companion' expression for a moment. His attention dragged back to Kyminn. "Niko agrees. He is very clear that you still have your Gifts. If you don't believe me, then at least believe him!"

A ghost of a smile. "I suspect I don't have much choice in the matter. I've tried arguing with Companions. It didn't turn out well."

Jannen gave his shoulders a squeeze and released him. "Give it time. It's going to be three or four days at least before you can risk using your Gifts again. It's important that you not overdo it, or you risk permanent damage. Understand?"

"Sounds like something I've told more than a few of my patients," Kyminn remarked drily as he climbed to his feet.

Jannen watched Kyminn in carefully, pleased to note that the healer was already much steadier. The Herald raised an eyebrow in inquiry as a white form ghosted around the side of the wagon, pausing in front of Kyminn. From the shifting of Jareth's feet, it was clear that he was unsure of his welcome.

 _:Kyminn..:_ The Companion's tone was unwontedly subdued and uncertain.

"Jareth." Kyminn's response was wary, neutral.

More shifting. _:You're welcome to lean on me if you need to, if you're going to check on the others.:_ The offer was almost tentative.

It was tempting to point out that he was quite capable of walking the few yards over to the shelter without Jareth's assistance. For a long moment, Kyminn debated doing just that.

"Thank you Jareth, I'd appreciate that." Truce offered and accepted.

Jareth didn't set off immediately. A white head swung around to regard Kyminn. _:We didn't know.:_

"Know what?" Kyminn was taking full advantage of Jareth's offer, one hand wrapped in the Companion's mane for support.

 _:About Derris.:_

"What do you mean? What about Derris? About why he went crazy? Or that what happened to Randen affected Derris somehow?" Kyminn was exasperated.

 _:Yes. Both.:_

Kyminn pinched the bridge of his nose and took calming breaths. A third headache, white and horse-shaped, seemed to be manifesting itself behind his eyes.

"Jareth. Could you, perhaps, be a little clearer? Do you, or do you not, know what happened with Derris last night?"

 _:Yes and no.:_

Kyminn dug in his heels and hauled on Jareth's mane with all of his weight. It was impossible for him to overpower the Companion, but that didn't mean he was incapable of getting his point across, and the point was that he was profoundly pissed off.

"That's it!" Kyminn released Jareth's mane and grabbed his forelock instead. Jareth pulled his head back in surprise, briefly pulling Kyminn off his feet. The healer hung on grimly until Jareth conceded and dropped his head again.

"I've had it! I am tired to death of these oblique references, of coy conversations where I have to try and figure out what the 'mysterious Companions' actually mean! Why the seven hells can't you just come out and tell me what I need to know?!" The last was bellowed directly into Jareth's face.

 _:I…"_ Jareth floundered.

"Are clearly incapable of giving a straight answer to any question." Bitten.

 _:I…we aren't used to…discussing some things.:_

"Really? I hadn't noticed. And here I thought you'd been the very picture of clarity and transparency." Kyminn, Jannen mused, had an expected talent for sarcasm.

The Companion was clearly uncomfortable. Bryann and Niko slunk up behind him, guilt writ large in their stance.

Jareth was silent for several moments. Whether he was consulting the others or simply collecting his thoughts was impossible to know. Kyminn refused to yield.

 _:It's complicated.:_ Jareth began, tentatively.

"It can't possibly be any less clear or more complicated. Try me. Use small words if necessary."

A gusty sigh. _:It is impossible for a Companion to be evil, to intentionally serve evil. Did you know this?:_

"To be honest, I hadn't really thought of it. I know that Companions and Heralds are considered "the good guys", at least within Valdemar and to our allies. But you made a point of saying 'intentionally'. Does this mean that Companions can _UNintentionally_ be evil?"

 _:NO!:_ Four voices this time, deafeningly. From the poleaxed expression on Jannen's face, the bellow hadn't been directed solely at Kyminn.

 _:No Companion can BE evil, intentionally or otherwise. It's…because of what we are. It's like saying that water can sometimes be dry, or the sun can accidentally put out darkness. But…:_ More evasive shifting. _:It is possible for us to unknowingly do…the wrong thing. We can be misled, or deluded. We can even be forced.:_

There was most definitely a third headache making itself home in Kyminn's skull. "So," he said carefully, "Derris was unintentionally evil last night?"

 _:NO!:_ Four indignant bellows.

"Jareth, if this is your idea of less confusing, it's not working. I mean that it's really, REALLY not working for you." Kyminn rubbed his aching temples.

 _:My point – and I do have one – is that sometimes we are subject to events and circumstances around us, just as our Chosen are. Sometimes that means that the results are…less than ideal.:_

The magnitude of this understatement handed a hammer to the headache and started merrily pounding away.

 _:It is impossible for an outside agency to completely block the Herald – Companion bond. Did you know this?:_

The change of conversational direction left Kyminn momentarily breathless. "Jareth…" warningly.

 _:There are…means…:_ Jareth's tone made it clear he was not going to elaborate on that point, _:of keeping a pair-bond for communicating, or even knowing where the other one is. But even if that were happening, the bond would still survive. Understand?:_

"Your words yes, your point – no."

 _:At some level, blocked or not, injured or not, a Companion and their chosen are together, separate reflections in the same mirror. Both Randen and Derris suffered emotional injuries in the accident. I think you suspected this might be the case, yes?:_

A slow nod. "I had wondered. I know that it happens, that it's a real injury for all that it's in one's mind and heart. I wasn't sure if Heralds were taught how to overcome those kinds of hurts as part of their training, or maybe it was a healing that the Companions did."

A shake of the white head. _:Heralds do learn some things that can help in those times, and we are always there to love and support our Chosen, but neither we – nor our Chosen – are immune to those sorts of injuries.:_

"Is Derris…?"

Another gusty sigh, and there was no evasion in the response. _:He was. Is. He is healing, and we are helping him. In time, he will recover. Randen needs more help than we or Derris can offer. Last night, Randen got lost in his pain and fear. Derris tried to help him and was caught in his own right. Each needing to help the other and unable to help himself…Derris didn't mean to hurt you Kyminn. He was trying to protect his Chosen. He…wasn't himself.:_ Jareth's tone was apologetic. _:We didn't know it was going to happen. We didn't even know it was possible for them to spiral like that. That aspect…will be handled separately.:_

Obscurely, Kyminn understood what Jareth was saying. After all, most of his patients responded to pain and fear by lashing out. It was far from the first time something like this had happened. The only difference lay in the mind within the patient's skin. After that, the answer was obvious.

"Is he still angry with me?"

 _:Actually, he's just hoping you'll eventually forgive him.:_

Kyminn gently rubbed the bandages on his forearm. "Well…" a wry smile, "It will be a scar to impress all the girls with. How many people can say they were attacked by a Companion and survived?"


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N During the early stages of this story, I knew where Kyminn's Gifts would eventually take him. The next steps where to figure out the "how" and "why" that would get him there. Now that I have those two points pinned down, I had to go back through the canon timeline and figure out the "when." This step happened while I was writing this chapter. (I have repeated this at the start of the story, for new readers.)_

 _I've been able to be very definite with respect to the "when" of this story. It takes place in the year 1371 A.F. The ruling monarch is Sendar, the King's own is Talamir (Companion Taver). In just under a year, a Companion named Kantor is going to choose a Karsite captain and turn the Herald's Collegium on their collective ears._

 _(A note – I did amend the story to reflect that the Weaponsmaster is Dethor, not Alberich.)_

Chapter 20

Randen uncurled himself from Derris's side as they approached. "Kyminn…", stricken.

Kyminn lowered himself down beside the pair, forcing Derris to acknowledge him. "Derris."

Derris met his eyes for a few heartbeats, then dropped his gaze.

Kyminn shook his head. "I hope you don't think that you're the first of my patients to turn on me."

A guilty flinch from both of them. Kyminn tried again. "Derris, you and your Chosen suffered horrific injuries in that accident. I'm actually a bit surprised that you have both recovered as smoothly as you have. This is just another injury and we'll make sure you both recover from this as well. Understand?"

The faintest of equine nods. Kyminn leaned forward so that he was nose to nose with Derris. "Derris, you are both going to recover. You are going to rest, do your exercises and follow my therapy instructions to the letter. When we get to Haven, you will both go the Healers and do whatever exercises and therapy _they_ tell you to do. I don't care if they tell you to learn to ice-skate if that's what it takes. You're going to do it or I am going to feed you your own hoof parings. Understand?"

Derris blinked and snorted. But he nodded, more firmly this time. The hangdog air hadn't completely vanished yet though.

Kyminn glanced from Randen to the Companion and sighed. "He's going to follow me around like a puppy, apologizing every chance he gets, isn't he?"

"Kyminn…he…we…I can't express how sorry we are about what happened!" Randen was miserable.

"I know." Kyminn was gentle. "As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to forgive. It happened. I should have been more careful, thought about the storm. Kind of obvious, in hindsight." This last was rueful.

"But he tried to kill you!"

"And failed. We were both lucky and we'll both be more careful going forward. It's done, Randen. Leave it be."

Randen looked like wanted to say more, but subsided with a reluctant nod of acquiescence. Kyminn let Jannen help me back to his feet.

"I'm going to check on the horses while Jareth and Bryann help Derris to his feet. I want to check that shoulder. Then we'll get you back in the wagon and settled again, alright?"

Another glum nod.

Kyminn sighed and trudged off to where the team was picketed. He surprised Jannen with a sudden snort of mirth. A raised eyebrow invited the healer to share the joke.

"I was just thinking," Kyminn glanced back to where Derris was being helped to his feet. "That I guess it really doesn't matter if Derris decides to be a pain in the ass for the next little while." He flashed a sardonic smile at Jannen. "For the foreseeable future, I can still outrun him."

Jannen choked. "Swallowed a bug," he muttered at Kyminn's querying look. A swift change of subject. "I'd like you to check the grey mare, Dusty. She's limping."

Kyminn ran his hands over the mare with a frown. "She's got a swelling here on her ribs, just behind her near foreleg. At a guess, I'd say she got kicked during the ruckus."

"That was my thought. How long do you think till she's fit again?"

"That depends. If my Gift were working, a day, maybe two. As it is?" a shrug. "It depends. I've seen pretty severe wounds develop from these. We'll treat it as best we can for now and hope it doesn't get any worse."

Jannen nodded and helped Kyminn catch each of the remaining animals and carefully check them over. By the time they were finished, both Derris and Randen were on their feet.

Kyminn's examination of the Companion was exacting, including grilling Derris on both his appetite and waste production. Randen flushed a bit with embarrassment, but provided the requested information. Finally, Kyminn stepped back with a sigh. "From what I can tell," his tone emphasized the lack of definition in the response, "You've bruised it badly and possibly caused some minor tearing. I'm willing to bet that the healed break in your leg is aching pretty badly right about now."

Derris hesitated briefly, but nodded.

"I figured as much. After we get Randen here back to the wagon, I'll make up a draught for the pain and swelling and some poultices for you and the horse." He looked over at Jannen. "I'm afraid we won't be going anywhere for several days at least."

"I figured as much." Jannen hesitated, then added, "We could use some fresh meat."

"Fine by me, just let me know in advance this time, alright?" It was dry.

"Kyminn, I am NOT going to forget that!"

 _Scene Break_

By the fourth day, Kyminn was able to feel his Gifts without pain, but using them was another matter. He felt weak and clumsy, like his strength was running through his fingers. He confided as much to Jannen, who was quick to reassure him that what he was experiencing was normal, that the healing of his channels and the replenishment of his energy would be a gradual process. In one respect, this information eased Kyminn's mind greatly. In other ways, it only deepened his concern.

They were gathered, as had become their habit, in the Companions' shelter. Kyminn had just completed yet another examination of Derris's injuries. He was uncharacteristically uncertain as he presented his findings.

"Derris has re-injured the muscles of his chest and shoulder." He made a calming gesture as he continued, "The damage isn't severe, nor is it irreparable. It's simply painful and going to extend the recovery time by a few weeks. Derris also stressed the healed canon bone – it's not damaged, more in the nature of a bone-bruise than anything. It too will heal with time, but for now it is quite painful."

He paused, and went on reluctantly. "I'm actually more concerned about the horse."

Derris's head twitched up and his ears flashed forwards, but he refrained from any further comment.

"The mare's injury isn't healing well. It's a deep tissue injury that has started to break down. A pocket of infection is forming and an abscess will follow. Once the infection sets in deeply, I may not be able to save her, even if my Gift is at full strength."

Kyminn looked from Derris to Randen and back again. "I'm not recovered enough to Heal both of you and I won't be for a few days yet. Those few days could cost us the horse." A helpless shrug. "I don't think we can move the wagon with three animals. If the horse dies, Jannen and Niko would have to find the nearest town and hope there is a horse we can buy. I don't know how long that would take. A week? Two?"

His attention shifted to Jannen. "Normally, I wouldn't even consider choosing a horse over a Companion. But," a grimace, "Derris won't take any further harm from waiting a few days for Healing. I can manage the pain somewhat, but not completely." Kyminn opened his hands, palm up, in a gesture of uncertain helplessness as he looked at the Heralds. "This isn't something I can decide. I know what the Healer's answer is, but I don't know what the Herald's answer says."

Jannen simply nodded to Randen, silently turning the decision over to his fellow Herald. The ensuing silent conversation between Randen and his Companion was long, and judging from Randen's expression, troubling. Finally, "Are you able to put up a pain block?" It was hopeful.

That open handed gesture again. "Maybe. Some of the time. I'll do my best. I can make up a pretty powerful sleeping draught, so Derris will get at least some relief."

A pained sigh. "Derris is willing to wait. He would prefer that we not delay our arrival back in Haven any more than necessary." Pleading, "You'll do what you can for him, yes?"

"Randen," Kyminn was deadly earnest, "I'll do everything I possibly can. I promise."

 _Scene Break_

Every creature in camp felt the strain of the next few days. The horses, perhaps sensing one of their herd was injured, were edgy and restless. Derris, back in his sling, withdrew into a patient stillness, Randen curled up at his feet, the lines of strain carving themselves deeper by the hour. Jareth and Bryann split their time between keeping the horses calm, offering their strength to Derris and providing night sentry duties.

Kyminn drained his energies as much and as often as he dared, trying to stave off further injury to the horse and offer a trickle of strength to Derris at the same time. It left him little strength for camp chores, although he did what he was able. That left Jannen to shoulder most of the heavy work of hauling water, wood and forage. Jannen's exhaustion was reflected in Niko's irritability as he tried to push the others to reduce the strain on his Chosen.

Kyminn was later prepared to swear that it was the longest three days of his life and it was a giddy relief when he was able to declare the mare out of danger and turn his strength to providing the too-long missing pain block for Derris. Once that hill was crested, it was a matter of a few more days of rest and Healing before they were at last able to take up their interrupted journey. The worst, it seemed, was at last over.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Unfortunately for the travelers, those days following the storm proved to be a mere foreshadowing of the weeks to come. The first storm had been a learning experience for all of them, and when they encountered another on their second day back on the road, they all thought they knew what to expect. This time, Randen was settled in with Derris, with Jannen and Kyminn taking turns sitting with him, talking to him, trying to keep him focused on the present.

If one's standard for success was "This time no one got hurt" then it was a success. For Randen, thrown into hours of flashbacks and panic, screaming at every thunderclap, it was hellish. Both Jannen and Kyminn talked themselves hoarse trying to reach him, calm him.

Derris, unable to reach his Chosen's conscious mind, was in agony at his helplessness. The other Companions were relegated to miserable bystanders, only able to offer Derris their strength so as to keep him from being lost himself, but nothing more.

By the time the storm blew itself out, it felt like it had blown them with it. Each of the men felt drained, a hollow husk of himself. Even the Companions seemed to be a paler shade of white than usual. Randen slid into a deep depression, struggling with his inability to master his fear. His confidence shaken, Randen's doubts turned inward, questioning his own future and utility as a Herald. Kyminn often saw Randen massaging his truncated leg and the Herald admitted to Kyminn that he often felt pain in the missing limb and foot. Kyminn assured him that this was normal, but Kyminn got the sense that the words never pierced the shell of Randen's self-doubt, that Randen believed the phantom pain to be yet another sign of his mind's betrayal.

Their pace slowed to a crawl as a series of summer storms rolled across their route. They found themselves forced to stop at the first signs of bad weather. Randen, despite their best efforts, was still unable to escape his memories and relived the accident at every flash and roar. He spent hours curled up with Derris, the only thing that offered stability to his treacherous mind.

The sole glimmer of success was that their slow rate of travel offered plenty of opportunity for Derris and Randen to recover from their injuries. Derris was now able to walk far enough to graze for himself, which eliminated the need for Jannen and Kyminn to gather forage. Randen could now get around fairly well on his crutches, although his shoulder was still weak.

"Kyminn?" Jannen's voice was low as he and Niko eased up beside the wagon. Randen was asleep in the back, drained and exhausted from yet another storm which had battered them the previous night.

Kyminn looked questioningly at Jannen, seeing his own fatigue and worry mirrored in Jannen's expression.

"Kyminn, there's a town coming up, a couple of hours away. There's a small inn where we could stop for the night."

Kyminn heard the hesitation in Jannen's words, "But? You don't think we should stop, do you?"

Jannen looked back to the wagon, as though he had Farsight to view the sleeping Herald. "No," the word was dragged reluctantly from his lips. "No, I don't think it would be a good idea."

Kyminn toyed with the reins for a bit, an excuse to put off asking the next question. "Because he's…not well?"

Stress and fatigue made Jannen seem older than his thirty some years. "Yes. People believe in Heralds. They know we speak for the crown, for law and order. People need to be able to trust us, and right now…"

"Right now, having a raving, screaming Herald would do immeasurable harm to the crown and circle," Kyminn said grimly. "If it were just his injuries, that would be one thing. People know that Heralds do dangerous work and seeing one who was injured in the line of duty would emphasize that. It's even heroic, and him still serving after such an injury…yes, that would reinforce how people need to see Heralds. But right now…"

"Right now they wouldn't see an injured man. They'd see a damaged, unstable Herald and that could be devastating." Bleakly, "Kyminn, you and I know he's not crazy, or unstable. He's injured and he's doing everything in his power to overcome this. I shudder to think what other people's pity – or fear – would do to him right now."

"You don't have to convince me Jannen. Gods know that he, you, I and the Companions are doing everything in our power to work through this, but to an outsider, it certainly wouldn't look that way." A deep breath. "So. How do we do this?"

Jannen's sigh of relief was heartfelt. "Niko and I will take Randen and go on ahead. We'll go cross country and bypass any observers. Bryann, Derris and Jareth will take the road, but go ahead of you. I assure you, no one is going to stop three Companions, no matter how outlandishly they are strung together. That leaves you with the wagon. We're low on supplies – you know what we need. If anyone asks, you're on a commission from the Guard to deliver the wagon and horses to Haven. That has the benefit of being at least part of the truth. We'll meet up somewhere down the road, alright?"

Kyminn nodded. It was the work of only a few minutes to get Randen wakened and shifted. To their relief, Randen not only agreed wholeheartedly with their decision but was clearly glad to avoid additional scrutiny. As for Kyminn, his stop in the village was entirely uneventful, somewhat to his surprise. Given the way their trip had gone thus far, he'd expected at least _something_ to go wrong.

While in the village, Kyminn used the opportunity to ask about the local weather. Had the village experienced the storm of the day before? How about the weather in general, was it an unusually stormy summer for the region? Much to his chagrin, he learned that the weather, while recently unpleasant, had in fact behaved completely normally thus far. In fact, it had been quite a few days since the last rain, so the village didn't mind the precipitation in the least. It seemed as though the spate of storms the travelers were experiencing was a function of their moving with the weather, rather than experiencing an extraordinarily rainy season.

Their camp that evening was, for once a waystation. It was seldom that their progress matched up with the crown-provided shelters and it was always a relief to get into a more proper shelter. The allure of wagon-camping had long since lost its shine.

"I never thought I'd be this grateful to see the inside of a waystation," Randen observed after a scan of the rustic interior.

"That makes two of us." Jannen flopped down in the bed-box with a tired sigh.

"Three," added Kyminn, "and I'm not even a Herald!"

The presence of the more spacious shelter and better facilities for the Companions and horses provided a welcome lift to everyone's spirits and the usual chores were completed with a vigor that had been missing of late. The fresh provisions also provided a break from the usual diet of dried foods and game while the weather offered them a night of respite. Sated and exhausted, they reviewed again their progress – or lack thereof.

"It's midsummer now," Jannen pointed out. "We had expected that we'd be within a fortnight or so of Haven by now. Instead we're well over a month, month and a half away." He queried the other two by eye. "Thoughts? Does anyone see any way we can change that?"

Randen's face was shuttered, his eyes sunken with fatigue. "I can try, but I don't think so." His voice was rough, "It's just so hard…" he trailed off.

"To be honest," Kyminn interjected, "I think we are pushing Randen as much as we dare. Between his exercises, massages for the pain in his leg and shoulder, relaxation techniques and other mental therapies...I don't think there's anything else we can safely add. At this point, it depends on what the weather lets us do."

Randen offered a wordless smile of gratitude at Kyminn's acknowledgement of his efforts at recovery.

Kyminn plucked at a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve. His tendency to find something for his hands to fiddle with was something the other two had become familiar with. It meant that there was something Kyminn would prefer not to say. They also knew the best prompt was silence on their part.

Finally, "There is another option, but it's a last resort and I'd really rather not use it more than once or twice." A compassionate glance at Randen. "I've been saving it for in case things get really, really bad."

"Let me guess. The addictive sedatives?" Randen's question was a bleak whisper.

A nod. "I am absolutely certain that they will knock you out and give you peace. I'm equally certain that repeated use is physically and psychologically harmful. While I'm pretty sure that Heralds may be less apt to fall victim to such things, I think that it's partly because you have the good judgement to avoid abusing them plus the benefit of your Companion's input on the subject. But that doesn't mean that it's a good idea and a risk free decision. If there ever comes a time when it becomes clear to me that dosing you will do more good than harm, then I'll do it without hesitating."

Kyminn looked levelly at the Heralds. "I know I'm the youngest here and the least experienced in some things. But I see this as a Healer's decision and I'm asking you to trust my judgement in this." He held up a hand to forestall comment. "I realize that we don't know what the road ahead holds. Maybe there will be some kind of emergency, something that Heralds have information on and I don't. I'm prepared to accept those conditions. But in absence of extenuating circumstances, this decision is mine."

"You know," Jannen said in the silence that followed this pronouncement, "I think you're more entitled to the full title of Healer than you realize."

"Let's not borrow trouble," A weak grin took the sting from Kyminn's words. "I'm pretty sure we've got enough of that to go round as it is, no?"

 _SCENE BREAK_

Kyminn was pacing the perimeter of the waystation clearing when Jannen found him. The young Healer's steps were short, agitated, and his face the one of someone deep in thought. Jannen gently caught his shoulder.

"Kyminn? Are you alright? It's the middle of the night!"

Kyminn started, blinking at the Herald in the gloom. "No, I'm fine. Just restless I guess."

Jannen mulled that over for a moment. "Is it Derris or Randen?" He scanned the sky. "The weather seems to be stable at least," this last with relief.

"No, they're fine," the reassurance was quick, breezy, definite. "It's nothing. I just couldn't sleep." He hesitated. "It's like there's something I've forgotten, but I can't recall what it might be. Something important that I should know. Does that make any sense?"

"Well, no," thoughtfully. "It doesn't right now, but that doesn't mean that it won't. If you _have_ forgotten something, I'm sure you'll remember it. But honestly, it's probably just stress and exhaustion. We've been running flat out for quite some time now. It's not surprising that you feel like you've missed something along the way."

"I suppose," Kyminn agreed reluctantly. "The last little while has been pretty overwhelming. Maybe…" he paused and then rushed on, "Maybe it's because we're getting a bit closer to Haven. Maybe I'm just nervous."

"Now that," Jannen's agreement was emphatic, "Makes a great deal of sense! I know you were reluctant to go, and that you have some valid concerns about what you'll find when you get there. And you have to admit, for the past few days we've been talking about Haven a lot, about when we're going to get there and what needs to be done. It's completely reasonable that all this has added your other concerns to what you're currently dealing with! No wonder you can't sleep!"

A wan smile from the darkness. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Not to worry. Niko mentioned that you were out here. Let's call it a night, shall we?"

A yawn of agreement was Kyminn's only response.

 _SCENE BREAK_

The weather maintained its stubborn refusal to cooperate. The remainder of their trip fell into the same pattern – a day or two of travel, followed by a day or more of bad weather. Randen struggled to maintain his mental hold, but his control was gradually eroded away. By the end of their next month of travel, his fear would set in any time the road took them along a steep hill side or across a rushing stream. His panic was so acute at one bridge crossing that Kyminn and Jannen had to restrain him, lest he hurt himself in his attempt to bolt. Afterwards, Randen wept for hours, ashamed at his inability to manage his own mind.

They all grew thin and drawn with strain. Derris was now able to walk with the wagon for an hour or two at a time and he would stick his head inside the canvas flap or edge as close to the front bench as he dared, anything to stay close to his Chosen.

Randen's bouts of panic and the resulting insomnia left him drained and fragile. He did what he could, but Jannen and Kyminn quietly shouldered most of the work, reluctant to ask any more of him. Jannen, as their senior, leader and scout, drove himself to exhaustion trying to do all that was required. Up the road and back, setting up and packing down, chores, sessions with Randen, nights spent trying to calm his weeping, anguished colleague. Bit by bit, Jannen dribbled away, leaving only the essential Herald behind.

Kyminn, like the other two, withdrew, saving his energy for the tasks at hand. He refrained from mentioning to Jannen that he was using his Gift to help stretch Derris's strength so that the Companion could spend more time with Randen. Similarly, he did not mention that the same unease that had plagued him at the waystation had returned. The insistent sense of _something missing_ was a constant now, something demanding his attention, something undefined that he was supposed to do. When he slept, his dreams were filled with an endless quest for something he had to find, something he had to do, something important. He would wake up as exhausted as though he had been running all night, desperately, frantically searching for the unknown something. To cope, he threw himself into the work around him, flinging his energy to Derris, trying to exhaust himself to the point where he no longer dreamed.

 _SCENE BREAK_

"Tomorrow." Jannen's tone was devoid of energy, so drained was he. "Tomorrow by early afternoon we'll be home."

Randen sat with his back against the wagon's tailgate, Derris's head shoved incongruously through the gap in the canvas. One arm circled the Companion's neck. "There's a storm coming." His voice was rough from crying.

Kyminn looked up from where his head rested on his knees. "I think," it was pensive, "that it would best for everyone if we were to get you to Healer's as soon as possible." He paused to marshal his thoughts. "Derris is strong enough to carry you for a while, and you'll definitely do better on his back than anywhere else. Can you stay on?"

A long-unused smile cracked Jannen's face. "Companions don't let their Heralds fall off. Besides, Companion tack is rigged with straps designed to hold injured Heralds. Randen will _not_ fall off Derris!"

Derris stamped his foot in emphatic agreement.

"I'd like you to take a part dose of the sedative tomorrow. It should help." They had had to resort to the sedative twice before, once during a storm that lasted several days and another time when they were forced to ford a flooded bridge. The relief it had provided had proved to be, as Randen put it, "terrifyingly effective."

What should have felt like a triumphant return felt more like a tattered defeat.

Randen sat drugged and slumped in Derris's saddle, while Jannen and Niko paced beside them, ready to grab Randen at need.

Bryann and Jareth, wearing only their halters, foraged ahead, clearing the road for their fellows. The citizens of Haven, used to seeing Companions come through the gates, readily parted, concerned gazes following the injured Herald.

Kyminn kept the wagon hard on Derris and Niko's heels, reluctant to have the crowds cut him off from his guides. He was too busy monitoring Derris and controlling the horses to be overwhelmed by the crowd around him. Kyminn eventually realized that the crowds had thinned out and they were climbing a hill, passing homes that gradually got more and more grand as they progressed. It was with a start of surprise that he realized they were approaching another wall, another gate.

"Heralds Randen and Jannen, Companions Derris, Niko, Jareth and Bryann. Healer candidate Kyminn Danner. Please sign us in corporal, we're headed directly to Healer's." Jannen's fatigue made him short, for all that he was struggling to be courteous.

The Guardsman took it all in at a glance and nodded briskly. "Of course Herald. Shall I send a message to anyone at Herald's?"

Jannen nodded gratefully, "Please let the duty Herald know that we're back and where we are. Also, Kyminn will need quarters – somewhere other than Healer's for now please."

"Of course," the guardsman had already turned away and was instructing a page when they left.

The moment they were inside the gates, Bryann and Jareth took off at a gallop. It was the first time that Kyminn had ever seen a Companion at full speed and his surprise was great enough to penetrate his weariness. "Where…?"

"They've gone ahead to Healer's. There will be someone waiting there for us."

True to his word, by the time they pulled up to the low grey building that Jannen indicated was the Healing hall, a small crowd was waiting for them.

Careful hands lifted Randen down while others rapidly removed Derris's tack and examined his now-healed wounds.

"He needs…" Jannen began, to be interrupted by one of those in green robes.

"A Mind-healer. Those other fellows," a gesture indicated Jareth and Bryann, who were following some grooms to a distant stable, "said as much. I'm Crathach, I'll be taking care of him." The Healer paused and peered at Kyminn, now leaning wearily against one of the horses. "And that young man too."

Kyminn blinked, startled. "Me? But…"

The Healer reached out and gently touched Kyminn's forehead. The feeling of _something missing_ , the insistent urgency that had filled his mind, cut off suddenly, like a door being shut.

The sudden silence in his mind staggered him for a moment and he gaped in shock. In that second, the fatigue he'd been holding at bay rushed in to fill the sudden void and he saw the world go grey.

"Find a bed for this one too, near the Herald," Kyminn heard the Healer say, right before everything went dark.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Waking up was a gradual, enervating process. Kyminn couldn't recall the last time he'd slept in a real bed and he luxuriated in the comfort while he blinked the sleep from his eyes. As his vision cleared, it became clear that he was in some kind of sickroom. A well-sealed window admitted warm sunlight while the lanterns placed around the room ensured light even on the darkest nights. The Healer in him envied the clean, whitewashed walls, free of any grime or stain. Even the astringent tang of antiseptic added a layer of reassurance – clearly he was in good hands here.

He lay still for several minutes, wondering where the others were and if he should be looking for them. He was torn between the need to check on his patients and uncertainty as to his standing here. Was he a recovering patient? Guest? Where Randen and Derris still in his care? Should he remain in the room and wait for information or go in search of it?

Eventually, his bladder made the decision for him and he levered himself upright, determined to find the nearest suitable place to manage that need. Perhaps he'd find some information in the process. His mouth quirked a bit when he saw the loose felt slippers resting neatly beside his bed. Someone had clearly been anticipating!

As he slipped them on, he saw a pile of clothing, neatly folded on a nearby chair. A puzzled frown flitted across his face as he realized that he had absolutely no idea where his own clothes were. He was wearing a comfortable, if generic, loose tunic and drawstring trousers, suitable for an invalid. A mental shrug – he was decent and that would have to do for now.

He pulled aside the heavy curtain and peered up and down the corridor beyond. Other doorways, twins to his, marched along both sides, some with curtains drawn, others tied back. There being nothing to suggest that one direction was better than the other, Kyminn randomly selected the left turn and ventured down the hallway. Two of the curtains were drawn and he refrained from peering at the patients within, although he had to admit to a twinge of professional curiosity. Presumably one of the rooms here housed Randen and while Kyminn was determined to find him at some point in the near future, the Healer put 'searching every sickroom' at the bottom of the list in terms of acceptable approaches to that problem.

Kyminn had only just made his way to the end of the hall when footsteps told him he had company. A figure in green rounded the next corner, face breaking into a smile on spying Kyminn.

"Ah! You're awake! I was afraid I'd have to rouse you on my own! How are you feeling?"

Kyminn blinked in surprise, a bit nonplussed as he regarded the apparition before him. A young man, just a few years older than Kyminn himself, wearing the dark green robes of a full healer. Blue eyes twinkled from a face well marked with laugh lines, even for one so young. The entire package was topped by an extraordinary mass of tightly curled, blonde hair that brushed the fellow's shoulders. It was the most outlandish hair Kyminn had ever encountered.

The fellow either didn't notice Kyminn's surprise or he was used to it. "Healer Evin at your service." The laughter in his tone said that he knew full well the effect his appearance had on the unwary and that he found it funny. Evin hefted the tray in his hands meaningfully and grinned. "Can I interest you in food?"

Kyminn's stomach growled so loudly at this that he flushed.

"You've been here for two days now. Crathach insisted we keep you under, said you were mind-exhausted and just plain run down. No surprise you're starving!"

"Two days?"

Evin nodded as he led the way back to Kyminn's room. "You arrived here around the second hour of the afternoon on third day. It's now mid-morning sixth day. So, closer to three days than two." He pushed the curtain aside with practiced ease and set the tray on a small table. "I imagine you want to clean up first." He swept up the pile of clothing and passed them to Kyminn. "Let's get you to the bathing room, shall we?"

Kyminn ruefully ran his hand through his hair, skin suddenly twitching as he realized how long it had been since he'd been able to do more than clean up in a cold stream.

Aside from the small miracle that was an indoor privy, the bathing room itself was a miracle in its own right. A clever system let one pump water directly to a large copper kettle, which was in turn piped into a bathtub large enough to immerse oneself completely. A second pump let you add cold water directly to the tub so you could bathe in as hot or as cool water as one wanted. The tub itself drained directly into a pipe in the floor.

"Towels there," Evin pointed, "soap, scrub brushes. When you're finished, the wet towels go there," a hamper in one corner, "and please refill the hot water kettles when you're done. Take as long as you want. Any questions?"

Kyminn shook his head and simply said, "With this set up, why on earth would anyone ever want to _leave_ this place!"

Evin laughed. "Why do you think I didn't feed you _first?"_

Kyminn ended up filling the tub three times. The first two were simply to finally scrub the last of the road grime from his body, although he admitted he was probably clean enough after the first time. The notion of _knowing_ he was clean was enough that he didn't mind doing it twice!

Much as he would have loved to indulge in a long soak, his stomach was insistently reminding him that there were certainly other priorities. And now that he was up and moving, he definitely wanted to know how the others were.

The Healer had provided a practical meal, something that would have kept had Kyminn still been too tired to eat it immediately. Fresh bread (heaven!) and butter mixed with honey to slather on it, two kinds of cheese, one hard and another soft and spreadable. A bowl of fresh berries and melon, some hardboiled eggs and an oaten biscuit that was sliced and filled with a creamy nut butter. Kyminn goggled in surprise at the amount of food and gestured to Evin to join him. The healer shook his head, "No thank you, I've eaten. Do you feel up to talking while you eat?"

Kyminn nodded, his mouth full of oat biscuit. It was, quite possibly, the best thing he'd ever eaten.

"Normally I wouldn't discuss the condition of one patient with another. However, Herald Jannen made it very clear that you have been Randen's primary Healer for quite some time and that as such, he is _your_ patient as well, until and unless Randen himself says differently."

Evin gathered his thoughts. "Physically, Randen is doing very well. Healers Pell and Anya sent detailed case notes and we've had a chance to review them. In addition, Jannen has added information on the treatment and therapies that you were doing over the past few months. When you get a chance, we'd like you to add your own thoughts to those, if you don't mind."

Kyminn nodded, surprised, popping a piece of fruit in his mouth to avoid the necessity of responding to this startling request.

"Mind-healer Crathach has also spent a good deal of time with the Herald. He reports that Randen is making good progress. It will take a few weeks yet, but Randen will make a full recovery."

Kyminn's throat tightened at this news, the fruit suddenly hard to swallow. He bowed his head, fighting back tears of relief.

Evin let him compose his emotions before he went on. "Crathach wanted me to convey to you that you – the three of you – did an excellent job, given the situation. The relaxation exercises, the focusing drills, all of the things you did were a tremendous help and kept Randen on the path to recovery."

"Healer Evin," Kyminn was somber, "Can you tell me – is it possible for a Herald to go mad?"

Evin sighed. "Yes and no."

Kyminn's somber tone vanished with a huff. "Now you sound exactly like a Companion!"

"Really?" Evin was delighted. "I've never talked to a Companion so I wouldn't know. Anyway, to answer your question – no, Heralds cannot go completely, irretrievably insane, their Companions won't let them. If one were to go beyond that point of no return…I'm not sure the bond could withstand it."

Kyminn thought back to what Randen had told him about the Companion who had repudiated her Chosen. No, the bond would not withstand madness. He decided that if Evin didn't know that story, it wasn't Kyminn's to share.

"Anyway," Evin went on, "that doesn't mean that Heralds can't suffer injuries to their psyche, whether through mischance or enemy action. There are a number of cases in the histories of Heralds suffering quite severely and needing help to recover. Heralds are also prone to suffer various kinds of survivor guilt, or fits of self-doubt." A wry smile, "Carrying the expectations of a kingdom can be a heavy burden sometimes. There's a reason we need Mind-healers."

"That is…good to hear," Kyminn breathed in relief. "Can I see him?"

"Certainly. I checked the case notes before I came. He is in with Crathach right now but should be free about the time you finish breakfast. Now, the Companion Derris…"

"Oh?"

Evin's look was reproving. "Apparently, you've been using your Gift to ah…boost his strength, yes?"

A guilty nod.

"Strictly speaking, that's not good practice. It's a dreadful waste of your own strength and makes it much, much easier for the patient to overwork the injury." Another wry smile, "However, the senior Healers all concur that in this case it was absolutely justified. You did a good job of balancing the critical needs of both your patients, even if you overdid it alarmingly."

Kyminn debated apologizing and decided against it. It had been necessary and he knew he'd do the same thing again if required. An insincere apology seemed pointless.

"The senior Healer to the Companions looked at Derris and questioned Jannen, Randen and the other Companions."

Kyminn boggled a bit at the notion of anyone trying to "question" a Companion who didn't feel particularly forthcoming. It made his eyes want to cross. "Oh?" was all he said.

"Derris is also doing very well. Apparently Healer Delassia also wants to sit down with you and have you update the notes on his case. She says you do excellent work."

"I…ah…certainly…I guess." Surprise tied his tongue again, so he popped in another piece of fruit, just in case he was expected to say more.

"Finally," Evin rapped the table to get his attention, "the third patient. Kyminn Danner."

"Uh.." Kyminn quickly swallowed the bite, gulping in surprise.

"Aside from an understandable exhaustion, following an apparent attempt to work yourself to death, how are you feeling?" The question had an odd weight to it.

"I…" a dawning surprise washed across Kyminn's face. "I feel…fine." He was determined not to mention the dreams which had haunted him, the persistent sense of _something_ he should be noticing or doing. Besides, it was gone now.

A nod. "I'm not sure you knew this, but you are not particularly well shielded. You were leaking all over the place. It's the first thing Crathach noticed, so he immediately threw a shield up. I'm told, "it was dry, "the results were dramatic."

Considering the effect his collapse must have had on the gathered Healers, Kyminn agreed that "dramatic" was no doubt a fair assessment.

"Herald Jannen indicated that you've had some training in your gift, and your success with Derris certainly bears that out. However, it's a very high priority that you learn how to properly shield, particularly given your rather unique form of Foresight."

"The Foresight? What do you mean?"

"Foresight has always been one of the more difficult gifts to manage. No one is quite sure why it comes when it does, why it shows the things it does or why it's so often unclear. Every other Gift can have at least some control applied and can usually be used at will. Foresight…is a bit of a wild child."

"I'd certainly agree on you there," Kyminn averred.

"Your shields, while adequate in your familiar environment, are actually not well grounded at all. We strongly suspect that your Foresight 'leaks' through your shield sometimes. Tell me, have you ever been completely blindsided, knocked off your feet by something you've Seen?"

Kyminn's jaw dropped. "How did you know? That's exactly what happened when Derris got injured!"

A nod of affirmation. "That's what we thought. I'm guessing that being bludgeoned over the head by your Sight is extremely unsettling. Someone once described Foresight leaking through weak shields as being like a hundred nagging ghosts, all trying to tell you something. Pretty dreadful, really. If we can get your shields properly grounded, you should be able to prevent that from happening."

"I…would like that, yes. It sounds like a good idea." Kyminn clamped his jaw shut.

"Good. Now, I've been assigned as your Gift teacher in this. We can start right away if you'd like."

Kyminn froze. He wanted, very badly, to not be at the mercy of his Foresight. Almost as strong was his reluctance to blindly embrace the Healer's Collegium. True, he had been treated well so far, but equally true was the fact that he'd met only one other person here and he really had no sense of what was going on outside his little room.

"Would it be possible," he had to say something, lest Evin wonder at too long a silence, "for us to start tomorrow? I'd like to check on the others first and find my things. I gather that I'm not to stay here?"

To his profound relief, Evin seemed to find this request perfectly reasonable. The Healer's eyes lost focus for a moment before he nodded to himself. "The shields that Crathach put up seem to be holding. He tied them into your own Gift, so unless something happens to upset the balance, you should be fine for the rest of the day. But," and he focused back on Kyminn, "It really shouldn't wait longer than that. It wouldn't surprise me if you're experiencing all kinds of leakage."

Since Kyminn was now quite sure that this was precisely what was going on with his dreams and visions, he opted to keep his mouth firmly closed.

"As soon as you're done eating, we'll see about getting started, alright?"

Kyminn nodded and concentrated on finishing the superb breakfast.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N I'm not sure if the senior Healer is going to be involved in Kyminn's future training or not. If so, I predict that things could be...challenging._

Chapter 23

"Randen?" Kyminn tapped tentatively on the doorframe which Evin had indicated as belonging the Herald. The Healer had pointed Kyminn to the correct room and departed with a casual, "I'll be back for you before the noon bell." Kyminn, perforce, was on his own.

"Kyminn!" The answering shout was warm and reassuringly strong.

Kyminn ducked inside a room that was a mirror to his own, casting an anxious eye over his friend and former patient.

Randen straightened up from where he had just finished tying up his boot. His whites, now tailored to accommodate his amputation, still hung loose on his frame. Kyminn studied the Herald, looking for some clue as to Randen's condition. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he took in the profound change in the Herald's expression. Randen seemed…unbound, as though the chains shackling his spirit had fallen away. Dark shadows still lurked, but light was clearly prevailing.

Three strides took Kyminn across the room and he clasped the Herald's forearm, pulling him into a quick, rough hug. "You look…better," Kyminn offered.

"I feel better," was the heartfelt response. "There's still some work to be done and Crathach says it may be a while before we winkle out all the stressors and triggers. But I'm on firm ground at last! I don't have words for how good that feels!"

"If it's the inverse of how awful things were, then I have a pretty good idea." The small smile took any hint of blame from Kyminn's words.

"In fact," Randen carefully rose from the bed and took up his crutches, "I'm being released today. I'm moving back to my old room in the Herald's wing. I'll come back for regular appointments with Crathach, but he expects that I'll be able to return to work in a fortnight or so."

"So soon?" Kyminn mentally tallied up the time since Randen's accident and was astonished to realize that nearly five months had passed.

"It seems," Randen pointed out, "there's always work somewhere for a Herald."

"Do you uh…know what your posting will be? I mean, Derris is still not up to strength yet and neither are you."

"For now, my posting is here, at the Collegium. Oh, I never really saw myself as a teacher and to be honest, I'm not sure I've got the aptitude to do it long term, but I think I can muddle through for at least the one term and not ruin any Trainees." This with the familiar grin.

"Um. So what will you be teaching?" Kyminn couldn't picture Randen being up to teaching equitation, or weapons, or any of the strenuous parts of the curriculum.

"Well," this was bemused, "geography of cities, actually." He looked over and caught Kyminn's look of surprise. "I was surprised too, until the Dean and I discussed it. You see, what usually happens in the Geography class is that Heralds are brought in to talk about their particular region. So if they are covering Lake Evendim for instance, they'd bring in a Herald from that area and talk about the economy, culture, land and people of that area. Since Heralds come from all over, the students get to hear it from a local, not just from a book."

Randen went on, warming to his subject, "Cities are a bit different. They're like little countries really, each neighborhood having its own needs and culture. Add managing construction, water, law enforcement, trade, nobility…it's pretty complicated and a Herald could flounder if he or she didn't know how it all works together. And while Haven is our biggest city by far, there are some pretty large communities out there. A Herald in another city – or posted as an envoy, needs to be able to untangle all those relationships."

"Huh. I never really thought about it," Kyminn mused. "All I've seen of Haven so far is a village that someone multiplied a thousand-fold and then stirred."

"You're not far wrong." Randen carefully led the way into the hallway. Instead of the left Kyminn had selected earlier, this time they turned right.

"Where are we headed? I was actually hoping to make Derris my next stop. If I can figure out where he is." This last with a resigned sigh.

"You're in luck then. I thought you'd want to see him. He's actually on his way up here. We'll meet him in the courtyard outside."

Randen's path took them through the corridors of Healer's hall to what seemed to be a principal entrance. Kyminn reached to open it, but stopped when Randen showed no sign of asking – or needing – help.

It was the first good look Kyminn had gotten of the greensward he had glimpsed from the second gate. With the Healer's building at their back, he could see several other buildings, each of them several times the size of anything in Oakden. Ahead and to one side lay a tremendous green space, rolling and lush. Small groves and copses provided texture to the landscape. Kyminn was startled yet again to realize that the white forms he saw in that distance were Companions. He hadn't realized there were quite so many of them. He wondered if any of those he saw were the ones he knew.

One of them certainly was – a Companion had exited through one of the gates and was in the process of closing the gate behind himself. As the Companion made his way across the grounds, Kyminn could tell even at the distance that it was Derris. Kyminn was pleased to see that Derris was taking care not to over-reach the pace, stretching the joint and placing his feet with precise attention.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful he is," Kyminn shook his head. "I guess I spent too much time too close to the problem."

A clap on the shoulder greeted this. "Well, we're very glad you were close to the problem! And don't tell him he's beautiful, he'll only agree with you and then I'll never hear the end of it!"

Kyminn coughed back laughter as Derris approached within earshot. He changed the subject instead. "So I'm wondering - why on earth do you bother to put a fence around Companions?"

"Privacy mainly. Not ours, theirs. The gates are there for normal people, or moving feed in an out or what have you. Usually they just pop over the fence if that's more convenient. Since Derris isn't cleared for jumping yet, he uses the gate. Think if it like keeping the neighbor's toddlers out of your backyard garden retreat. Companion's field is their retreat and if there wasn't a firm boundary, the well-meaning and muddleheaded wouldn't leave them alone."

"Fair point," Kyminn nodded a greeting to Derris and got a nod in return. "Derris? Mind if I take a look?"

Derris nodded again and presented his shoulder for inspection.

Kyminn was just putting Derris through his paces when Evin returned, this time with another Healer in tow.

"Kyminn, this is Healer Delassia. She is the senior Healer on the team which specializes in the treatment of Companions." Evin nodded a hello to Randen, as did Delassia. Clearly only Kyminn was the newcomer here.

"How do you do Healer." Kyminn hoped that his voice did not betray his acute case of nerves. Ice congealed in his belly as he realized that all his actions for the past five months were about to be dissected by the very intimidating woman before him.

The Healer paused as though trying to figure out which title, if any, to ascribe to Kyminn. She neatly sidestepped the issue by simply avoiding it. "I understand that Companion Derris has been entirely in your charge since his injury?"

"Not entirely, but yes, primarily." Kyminn had a sudden sympathy for the "less is more" approach that Companions adopted to questions.

The healer merely cocked her head in silent invitation for him to amplify.

"I did the majority of the work, but at various other times Healers Pell and Anya offered help and advice. We also had help from my mother, who is a non-Gifted Healer. And, of course, we consulted with Randen and Derris himself during all aspects of treatment." Kyminn found himself falling into a stilted, formalized pattern of speech, a mode he had seen his grandmother use and which he privately referred to as "Healer-speak."

A graceful gesture indicated the waiting Derris. "If you could walk me through the injury and your approach to treatment?" Polite, but an order nonetheless.

"I...certainly. If I might ask a question first?"

"Of course." It was a trifle impatient, the tone of a teacher granting a favor.

"I'm not exactly clear on what a "senior Healer specializing in Companions" is or what your roles and responsibilities are. I'm not," he stressed the point, "denying your right to treat Derris. Far from it! The whole point of us coming here was to get him the expert care he needs. I'm just wondering – is that you?"

The expression on the senior Healer's face slid through an oblique mash before settling on frostily unreadable. The senior Healer, it appeared, had not expected _that_ sort of question.

"Do I understand," it was stiff, "that you are questioning my credentials?"

Kyminn's heart sank. Clearly he had said the wrong thing. As though there had been any doubt to the depth of his misstep, Evin's appalled expression and frantic gesticulations reinforced the matter. Kyminn tried vainly to recover. "Ummm. No, Senior Healer," he hoped she could hear the capitals, "Not at all. It's simply that this is completely new to me. I'm not sure of the structure or persons here at Healers. I'm…trying to get a feel for the pulse…as it were. I did not mean to cause offense."

A pause, then a bare nod. "Hm. Well then, please add this information to your general knowledge base. Here at Healers we have trainees, full healers, senior healers, and specialists. A full Healer may choose to specialize in some aspect of Healing, such as childbirth, or surgery. A senior Healer is a person recognized by the College as having an overall breadth of experience and knowledge. Many senior Healers are teachers. A senior with a specialty is someone with a very great deal of skill, training, knowledge and experience in their particular area." Her words had dropped into a pedantic, lecturing tone. "I, as the senior Healer specializing in Companions, have devoted a number of years to shaping my Gift and skills in the treatment of Companions. I am," and her tone grew frosty again, "The 'expert care', you were seeking. At this point in my career, I seldom treat human patients any more – I give all my attention to Companions."

Privately, Kyminn pitied the Companions. Instead, he merely ducked his head and murmured "Thank you Healer, I understand now."

"I am given to understand that you are…not able to treat human patients?"

Kyminn stiffened, but remained civil. "I treat human patients using non-Gifted means. My various Gifts only respond to animals. Both my human and non-human patients have benefited from my care thus far."

"Companions," the Healer ground out, "are NOT animals." Perversely, it was the first thing she had done or said so far that had made Kyminn like – or remotely respect – her.

"I assure you that I am well aware of that Healer." He almost touched his forearm in memory but stopped himself. "However, while it is true that some of my Gifts do not, in fact, respond to Companions, it is equally the case that some, such as my Healing, Empathy and Foresight, most certainly do. I was able to use my Gift on Derris so I did so. If I hadn't, he'd be dead and this would be a very different conversation."

A grudging nod. "Clearly, you performed well in that regard." Her tone implied it was possible that this was the only thing he had done well thus far. "If you would present the case?"

Kyminn swallowed his initial, sarcastic retort and simply began. "Derris and Herald Randen were caught in a mudslide…"

Healer Delassia, whatever her personal faults – and Kyminn felt there were many – was, in fact, an expert in Companions. As she questioned himself, Derris and Randen, he had to acknowledge that she had a profound respect for, and commitment to, Companions. Finally, after more than a mark of examination, questions and analysis, she wound down her inquisition.

"I concur that Derris can be expected to make a nearly full recovery. By that, I mean that you will be able to gallop, jump and bear weight normally on that forelimb." This last to Derris, to whom she had addressed at least half of her remarks and questions this far. "I do not," and there was genuine regret in her tone, "Believe that you will recover the strength for any kind of endurance work, such as Special Courier. I'm afraid your days of dashing pell-mell about the country side, delivering the king's intrigues, are past. However, normal circuit work, particularly if not for an extended period, will certainly be within your abilities." She offered Derris a brief, respectful nod and turned her attention to Kyminn and picked up where their conversation had left off.

"Young man, as we discussed, I should like detailed notes on the injury and your treatment. I was particularly interested in your decision to lock up Derris's muscles during the lift. It was an intelligent solution in the absence of anyone with a suitable Fetching gift."

Kyminn nodded his compliance. At least she considered him intelligent. Sort of.

"Derris will continue his therapies. I will be revising them to reflect some of the flexibility and strains required of a field Companion. Your therapy has been adequate to this point, but your background is with plow and wagon horses. The needs of a Companion are somewhat different."

Kyminn simply nodded, clamping his jaw shut on his thoughts of how 'adequate' his care had been to this point. Randen poked him with a crutch, admonishing him to silence. The Herald had long since tired of standing and was perched on a low stone wall.

Delassia didn't seem to realize – or care – how dismissive her words had been as she went on. "You are, of course, welcome to participate in Derris's ongoing care, should you wish."

"Uh…yes, if that's allowed," he stammered. From the look on Evin's face, he wasn't the only one surprised at the invitation.

Healer Delassia looked baffled. Clearly she could not understand why Kyminn, whom she had just finished interrogating, insulting and condescending to, would be surprised at her statement. "You have been his primary care giver to this point, I assumed you would want to continue, although as a junior member of the team, of course." She paused, "That is, if Derris has no objection?"

Derris moved over to stand behind Kyminn, resting his chin on Kyminn's shoulder. The Companion's expression was bland, but it was clear that Kyminn held Derris's full confidence.

Another nod from the senior healer, this one matter of fact. "Well. That's that then. Derris, Kyminn, I'll see you both tomorrow, two hours after breakfast. Healer Evin, Herald Randen, good day." With those words, she swept back off into the Healer's hall.

"Sweet Lord and Lady!", Evin sank onto a bench with a moan. "I'd forgotten what she can be like!"

"Is she always like that?" Kyminn ventured.

"Pretty much, yes." Evin sighed. "It's not so much that she's prickly, mind you…"

"I'm not sure what else you'd call it," muttered Randen.

"Well, true," Evin admitted. "But the truth is, she really is a very gifted and able Healer. She is passionate about making sure the Companions get the best treatments she can offer. I've honestly wondered if she ah…wasn't in 'encouraged' to specialize in that area because she's really…not a people person."

Companions, it seemed, were not the only ones capable of massive understatement.

Evin made a helpless gesture. "She's just kind of…intense. For some reason, she seems to do a better job of seeing _Companions_ as people than she does _people people_ , if that makes sense."

"It kind of does," Kyminn allowed, one hand sneaking up to scratch Derris's chin. "But that doesn't make her any easier to deal with!"

"Count yourself lucky Kyminn, she likes you," Evin offered.

"That's LIKE?" "What?!" Kyminn and Randen's yelps of surprise nearly drowned each other out.

"Sure," Evin's look at Kyminn was puzzled, then realization struck, "I forget, you're new here. From Senior Healer to the Companions Delassia," and they both heard all the capitals in the title, "a completely unknown person being told their care of a Companion is 'adequate' is very high praise indeed. That she asked you to stay on and help treat him is unheard of. It probably doesn't seem like it, but I assure you, this is a tremendous compliment."

Kyminn's doubt was probably clear on his face, but Evin politely opted not to notice.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N Wherein I get to write interesting phrases such as "voyeuristic mathematician" and have it make perfect sense._

Chapter 24

Randen, Derris and Kyminn slowly made their way across the grounds. Evin had offered to show Kyminn to his new quarters, but Randen had pointed out that he was going in that direction anyway.

Derris carefully lowered his forequarters down, just far enough for Randen to swing his shorter leg over. Once Randen was settled, Derris carefully returned to his feet. The Companion's expression dared Kyminn to protest. Kyminn wisely chose not to do so. Instead, he took the crutches from Randen "To keep Derris from getting clouted upside the head by accident". He debated mentioning that one was likely to want to clout Derris upside the head _on purpose_ but refrained.

"I never asked how you're making out Kyminn." Derris was keeping his pace down to a slow amble so that Kyminn could keep up.

"Alright, I guess." It was noncommittal. "I've only really been awake and present for a few hours. All I've done so far is have a bath, eat breakfast and get interrogated. I'm not sure what to make of it all."

"I can see how that would be the case. How about if I start by showing you around?" Without waiting for a response, Randen launched into explanations. Fortunately for Kyminn, he'd heard enough stories and descriptions over the last few months that it was more a matter of placing buildings and locations in context rather than starting from scratch.

"Healer's you've seen, or at least this wing. Heralds and Bardic are there and there," Randen pointed. "The classrooms are over here – that bell you just heard marked a class change. See how the trainees are all in the uniforms of their disciplines? Grey for Herald's whites, light green for Healer green, rust red for Bardic scarlet. I think I mentioned the Blues before – those are the students who are either sponsered students of particular promise or whose parents have paid to enroll them." Randen paused, "Most of them are pretty decent, but sometimes you get a few highborn with more arrogance than sense. We try very hard to clamp down on that when we find it, so if you see it, speak up, alright?"

As Kyminn wasn't particularly fond of bullies, high born or otherwise, it was easy to agree to Randen's instruction.

"Actually, the Blues are quite relevant to you, although no one has probably mentioned that to you yet."

"Ah?" Kyminn ventured cautiously. "I thought we had a deal about surprises." Derris produced a snort that was decidedly mirthful.

"No surprises, not to worry," Randen grinned down at his friend. "Trying to figure out where to put you was a bit of a headscratcher and the Blues provided an answer. It's like this – most people come to the Collegiums as trainees. They get assigned a room in the appropriate wing, problem solved. But you're not a trainee, so that's not a good choice for you and would probably be awkward for you and everyone else. A few of the Blues board here, generally the ones who are from outside the area, and we considered putting you in that set of dorms but, again, you're not a student. In fact, you're essentially a full Healer and that makes you senior – and older – than the student Blues. So…not a good fit." Randen looked a bit smug and patted Derris's neck. The Companion tossed his head and curvetted, clearly pleased with himself.

"It was Derris who hit on the solution. Not a student or trainee, nor a guest of the court proper. Also not a servant but, since you are assigned to Derris, you could be considered as staff."

This was such an odd notion that Kyminn stopped dead in the pathway. "Uh…"

"Not to worry, it's temporary. There's a small set of rooms off of the college which are used to house visiting scholars or guest instructors. The residents usually either eat in their rooms or in the city proper at the Compass Rose. Since there's usually only a few at any one time, there's no point in trying to maintain a dining room in that section. I checked and right now there's actually only one other person there. She's a mathematician who is apparently working with one or two very advanced students in the plumb-bob and ruler crowd. I doubt you'll see very much of her, I gather it's all very involved stuff."

"Ah. I see." Kyminn gestured weakly for Derris to lead on.

The 'small set of rooms' appeared to have had a former life as a storage shed, an impression confirmed by Randen. "This was a temporary building, used to store materials used during a renovation back in the king's grandfather's time. Sendar finally got tired of it being the palace's junk heap and ordered it cleaned out and torn down. After they got it cleaned out though, it turned out that the building was very sound and beautifully built, although no one is sure why they put so much effort into what was supposed to be a temporary shed. At any rate, it seemed a shame to waste it and since we're always short of room, it was converted into housing. Someone suggested using it for guest accommodations a few years later, and well, here we are."

Randen neatly slid down off Derris and took the crutches from Kyminn. Derris settled in to graze, clearly planning to wait for Randen's return.

The woodcrafter in Kyminn recognized the quality of workmanship in the building. He ran an admiring hand over the finely joined panels in the entry way and nodded to himself in appreciation of the workmanship. "All this for a shed?" he murmured.

"I know, it came as a surprise to everyone. Maybe there's an answer in the chronicles somewhere, but who knows?" The entry way opened up into a corridor, the floor tiled in cool slate. A count of the doors in the hall suggested there were only half a dozen rooms, all well spread apart. The far end of the corridor opened up into what appeared to be a sitting room of some sort. A glimpse of a fireplace and bookshelves suggested it might be a good place to curl up.

Randen stopped at the far rightmost door. A small bracket on the door held a neatly lettered sign bearing his name. Randen opened the door and gestured Kyminn inside.

"Uh…Randen…are you sure?" Kyminn took two steps inside the room and stopped. The front room – and it had to be a front room because there was no bed visible – held a comfortable pair of chairs, arranged in front of a small wood stove. Along the back wall was a tall window, heavy with thick glass. Positioned under the window so as to take full advantage of the light was a large desk, complete with pens, ink, parchment and sand – everything a visiting scholar might need to record midnight inspiration. Lamps with highly polished reflectors were strategically placed to maintain illumination. A door in the right hand wall presumably lead to the bed chamber.

Randen prodded Kyminn forward. "Acting as a full Healer, remember? This is pretty reasonable for someone of that rank if you were working for a baron or someone like that."

"Um." It seemed to be Kyminn's word of the day so far. He cautiously opened the second door and confirmed his suspicions that it led to a bed chamber. The bed was the largest he'd ever seen, and he had a wild urge to measure it to see if, in fact, it was larger than the wagon or whether it just seemed that way.

Kyminn was a bit surprised to note that there was a small sliding door on the far side of the bedchamber. Fearing that it might lead to yet another space he couldn't justify requiring, he cautiously slid it open. Much to his relief, it was a bathing room, along with a curtained alcove that his nose told him was another of the miraculous indoor privies. Randen thrust his head around to corner and caught sight of Kyminn. "Ah. Found the bath, have you?" The Herald pointed to a sliding door on the far wall, identical to the one Kyminn had opened. "Shared facilities, I'm afraid. Hope you don't mind."

"Ah…no…oh…what about the other…resident?" Kyminn had a sudden vision of being chin deep in the bath and being accosted by an irate -or voyeuristic – mathematician.

The Herald gave him a sly grin, but relented at Kyminn's blush. "Don't worry. The other guest is across the hall and has her own facilities. Plus, the door to the hall can be latched," Randen demonstrated, "and when latched, a notch on the hall side indicates that its occupied. You are asked to unlatch it when you're finished though – the palace servants come in here to clean and it causes them problems if they are locked out." Randen paused, and then added. "The servants keep a low fire burning here if there's anyone in residence. If you want them to heat the water for your bath they will, but please let them know in advance."

Kyminn tried – and failed – to wrap his head around the notion that there was a servant available to draw his bath. "Uh…if it won't cause any problems for the palace staff, I think I'd rather just see to it myself if that's alright."

"Hah. I win." Randen crowed in triumph. "I bet Derris that's what you'd say. He thought you might be so tickled at the novelty of everything that you'd let the servant do it."

"Hmph. Aside from his choice of you as his Herald, I'm starting to seriously doubt Derris's ability to judge character."

Randen pealed laughter and moved back into the sitting room. Kyminn followed more slowly, peeking into the various drawers and cabinets of his new quarters. He was a bit surprised to realize that someone had already put away all of his things.

"Oh, by the way, I forgot this," Randen tossed a bag at Kyminn. The healer caught it by reflex, surprised both by the weight and the metallic clink from within. Kyminn twitched open the bag, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Randen! What's all this?"

"Your fee." Randen said blandly. "As one retained here by the crown to care for Derris, you're entitled to a stipend. This is that and your back pay for mine and Derris's care. Plus, a bonus from the crown and another from the circle." He was grinning again.

"I can't accept this! It's far too much! And I didn't do it to get _paid_ for heaven's sake!"

"The king knows that, ninny! But Healers have to eat too – your mother and grandmother get paid for their work don't they?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"But nothing. In case you missed the memo, you did a damn fine job on us. We're grateful, the circle's grateful, the crown is grateful. You deserve to be either paid for your work or rewarded for your services – doesn't matter which one you pick, either way you've earned that money."

"Uh…" Kyminn's resolve was weakening. "It just seems like an awful lot…"

"With great risk, comes great reward." Randen snorted. "It's yours. If you really feel like it's too much, put it some of it in the poor box or something."

"Ah. Well, thank you then." Kyminn tucked the bag into a drawer, determined not to waste any of the largesse.

Kyminn glanced around the room again, suddenly at a bit of a loss. "I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to be doing. You're fine, Derris is fine. Aside from you two and Jannen, I really don't know anyone here. I guess I could go into the city if that's allowed, but I'm not even sure I could find my way back here!"

"Easy. Just keep going uphill." Randen pondered a moment. "Maybe there's a guide available…" He paused, consulting with Derris. "Problem solved! Derris tracked down Niko to see if Jannen was free. Jannen is on leave for the next fortnight so he's not too busy. He was planning on looking you up anyway and he says he'd be happy to show you around the city this afternoon."

"That would be perfect! Please have Derris convey my thanks. Um…where should I meet him?"

"Derris says done. He also says that Jannen will meet you here, one mark after the noon bell." Randen eyed Kyminn thoughtfully, "It occurs to me that we were on the road a lot longer than we expected. Your gear got a lot more wear and tear than we planned." Not to mention a sleeve torn off by a berserk Derris. "Jannen can help you find some new cloths that won't cost you your shirt."

"Thank you Randen. Are you coming with us?"

A mournful shake of the head. "'Fraid not. Derris and I both have exercises this afternoon and I've got another round with Crathach. After that I have session with the Weaponsmaster. He wants to figure out what I can do in terms of self-defense with my reduced mobility and bum shoulder. I'm sure it will all be properly sadistic." Randen gave a mock shiver.

"Ah. Sounds like fine. I certainly wouldn't want to keep you away from your fun then."

"Coward." Randen made a very unHerald-like face at Kyminn. "Before I head off, I'll finish getting you settled. Follow me."

Randen led the way to the far end of the building, via the sitting room. A small side door proved to lead to a covered walkway that connected the instructor's lodgings to the Herald's wing. "With only a few rooms in this visitor's section, the servants of the Herald's wing take on the cleaning and other chores. We found that the guest scholars tend to get so caught up in projects and what not that they don't keep any regular schedule. It was hard on the staff to try to anticipate their requirements, so instead we ask the residents to bespeak the servants when they need anything."

Randen pushed open the door and nodded to a youngster in blue livery who was seated in an alcove. The lad popped to his feet and gave the Herald a polite bow. "Kyminn, there is a hall boy stationed here at all times. Simply let him know if you need anything in the way of meals or supplies and he will carry the message to the appropriate person. You are asked to please remember that the hall boys are members of the household staff and should not be asked to perform personal errands."

Kyminn blinked a bit, trying to parse out the meaning to the Herald's words. Since he had absolutely no requirement for any errands – personal or otherwise – Kyminn didn't think he'd have any difficulty with that rule.

The youngster was still standing there, patiently attentive, awaiting instructions. Randen smiled warmly at the boy. "Master Danner would like a small luncheon brought to his room please. Nothing too heavy, he's going out and about later."

"Of course m'lord Herald. Will the sir be wanting dinner brought this evening?"

Randen glanced over at Kyminn, then shook his head. "I think not, thank you." To Kyminn, he added, "You and Jannen will probably run late, I expect you'll end up eating down the hill somewhere."

"Will there by anything else sirs?" At Randen's headshake, the boy gave another brief bow and trotted off into the interior of the building.

"There you go. He'll have the tray for you in a quarter mark or so." Randen looked satisfied. "And on that note, I'm off for my next session." He spun off, crutches clattering, leaving a bemused Kyminn in his wake.

True to Randen's prediction, a tap at his door a bare quarter mark later proved to be the lad with a small tray.

"Ah…" Kyminn glanced around, unsure of whether to take the tray or ask the boy to set it down.

"Would you like this on the table sir or somewhere else?" The hall boy took Kyminn's vague nod as a yes and set the tray down, taking care to rearrange the dishes which had shifted during their trip.

"Thank you…uh…I'm sorry, what is your name?" Kyminn wondered if he sounded as flustered as he felt.

"My name is Lev, sir. I'm assigned to the halls in Herald's wing four afternoons a week."

"I see. Thank you Lev." Kyminn took a closer look at the youngster, taking in the now-familiar blue livery and an equally familiar shock of hair. In Lev's case, it was shorter and someone had attempted to confine it, but the frazzled-cat springiness was definitely familiar. "I don't suppose that you're related to a fellow named Evin are you?" Kyminn felt his mouth twitching into a grin.

Lev, who couldn't be more than seven or eight years old, beamed. "He be…I mean," the boy paused and then continued with careful diction, "I mean to say, Healer Evin is my uncle sir. My ma...mother is the Healer's sister."

"I see." Kyminn puzzled this over for a moment. "Maybe I don't see. How is it that you came to be here at the Collegium? If it's alright for me to ask that." Kyminn had a sudden thought that asking personal questions of a servant might be considered an abuse of his status as a guest.

From Lev's ready answer, it seemed he needn't have worried. "My father was in the Guard sir. He was killed last winter on the border. My mother and aunt keep a small house and let rooms to Guardsmen. My little sister stays there with them. Uncle Evin found me a place here and so here I be…am."

"Do you like it here?" Kyminn wondered how he himself would have felt at the same age, to have lost his father and be uprooted to the chaotic bustle of the palace and collegium.

"Yes sir, I do. I mean," and he raised his chin in a bravely adult gesture, "I miss my mother and sister sometimes, but Uncle Evin takes me to visit them when he can. The other pages and hall boys are pretty nice and the work isn't too hard. It's warm here and the food is good." Clearly this last was important to a growing lad!

Kyminn smiled. "Thank you Lev. I'm sorry if my questions troubled you. I'm very new here myself and my home is also very far away. It's nice to know I'm not the only one!"

The boy flashed him an impudent grin, but simply said, "Thank you sir. When you're done with the tray you can leave it in here for the morning servant to collect, or set it outside in the hallway if it's in your way. Will there be anything else sir?"

At Kyminn's headshake and murmured "No thank you," Lev bowed again and took himself out.

In spite of the fact that he had eaten only a couple of marks before, Kyminn was surprised to find himself hungry again. Apparently his body was keen to make up for the past few months of abuse. He was contemplating the last two sausage rolls and wondering if he should indulge when someone tapped on the door.

"Come in," Kyminn had decided not to waste the sausage rolls and thus had his mouth full when Jannen sauntered in.

"You look better, lad!" was the Herald's cheery observation. He grinned as Kyminn struggled to swallow the flaky pastry and meat concoction. Jannen shook his head and grabbed up the last roll, solving Kyminn's dilemma for him. "Ah. I always forget how good it is to have all the little treats and variety of menu we get back here at Heralds. A few weeks here and you take it for granted – and then you get back out on the road and realize how lucky you were!" He popped the last bite in with a beatific smile.

Airway finally clear, Kyminn managed to get out a greeting. Jannen, like Randen, was looking better than he had in some time. He'd replaced his much-abused and travel worn whites with new and looked every inch the dashing Herald. Rested and with the strain lines vanished from his face, he appeared to be back in fighting trim. Heralds, it seemed, were made of stern stuff.

"So," Jannen borrowed Kyminn's cup and washed down the roll. "You need to do a little shopping do you?"

Kyminn spread his hands ruefully. "Well, yes. Some of my things got pretty badly worn and I should replace them."

"Destroyed you mean," Jannen corrected him. "I've a chit here," he brandished something from a pocket, "from the crown to replace your boots and two complete sets of clothing."

"But they already gave me money for that! That's too much!" Kyminn squawked in protest.

"You were paid your stipend and a bonus for service. Had you been a Healer assigned to the Guard or Circle, the crown would have provided your equipment and uniforms. This is what you would be allocated each half year. And given it's what you used up in that time…" Jannen shrugged. "However, there's nothing that says you can't use your funds to get something a bit nicer than you might otherwise get. Fair?"

A reluctant nod. "I guess."

With Jannen's guidance, Kyminn counted out a portion of his funds and tucked the rest back in with his things. "That way, if it gets nicked, you haven't lost it all," was Jannen's only comment. Kyminn also followed the Herald's suggestion about how to tuck his pouch inside his waistband, out of sight.

As the two of them made their way towards the gate where Kyminn had passed out a few days before, Kyminn looked around, puzzled. "Where's Niko?"

"Dozing up in the Field," came the laconic reply. "Unless we're working, the city's a bit crowded for a Companion to wander around. He tends to stay back if I'm headed into town."

This time, Kyminn was able to take in an appreciate a great deal more of the city. Jannen proved to be a good tour guide, pointing out interesting buildings and explaining their route. The Healer in Kyminn was particularly interested in the many fountains, taps and sewers that served the population. Kyminn also got to see first-hand what Randen had meant by "little countries". Each district seemed to have its own style and conventions.

A candlemark of walking brought them at last to what Jannen called "the tailor's district." As he explained, "A piece of clothing can pass through several dozen hands in its lifetime. A shirt made for an earl might be worn only a few times and then set aside. It might go to a less-wealthy cousin, or be cut down for a younger sibling or child. If it becomes too worn or dated, then it may be sold or donated, depending on the family's means. Buttons, lace, bullion and embroidery can be picked out and reused. The earl's housekeeper may keep the silver buttons and replace them with lesser ones before sending the shirt on.

"The next stop is usually a higher end used goods store. In these stores the shirt may be taken apart and remade again, usually to remove worn spots. Cuffs and hems are turned to tidy them up. When it comes to used clothing, there's a very real ranking system in place. An article too worn for one of the higher end shops might be still too good for the clientele of the poorer shops to afford. So our shirt gets sold and resold, each time to a cheaper shop as the shirt wears. Eventually, it's bought by the ragman and resold as cleaning clothes. That earl's shirt may end its days as chinking in a shanty, keeping the winter winds out of someone's home."

"I didn't know that. I guess we do something like that at home, but not on such a scale. Plus, we certainly don't have as many choices of fabrics, nor need to have them done so fancy!" Kyminn felt suddenly very provincial and grubby beside the well-groomed shoppers bustling past.

"Well, you have no need of fancy things. Come to think of it, I suspect the nobility really don't _need_ such fancy things either – they just wear them because they can. Ah! Here we are!" Jannen paused before a shop that seemed much like the others, gesturing for Kyminn to proceed him.

'Here', was a handsome storefront, back walls lined with bolts of coloured fabric in a dizzying array of hues and textures. Wooden forms, hung with samples of the shop's work, dotted the floor. At their entry, a tall, dark haired man came around the counter to greet them.

"Good day Herald Jannen! We are, of course, pleased to see you again. How can we help you today?" The proprietor's tone was polite and respectful, with none of the cloying obsequiousness that people seemed to offer Heralds.

"Good day Bern, this is Master Kyminn. He is in need of some new clothing. We've been a little hard on him I fear." Jannen smiled.

"I see. Good day to you Master Kyminn. What is it that you require?" Bern smoothly transferred his attention to Kyminn.

Kyminn was getting used to being totally out of his depth, but in this case, he wished he could drag Jannen in with him. "Some new shirts and trousers, depending on the cost." Kyminn wondered if he was supposed to mention that cost was an issue. He had the idea that it probably wasn't for the nobles and wondered if he was being rude to bring it up. A mental shrug – cost DID matter and he wasn't going to pretend otherwise, convention be damned.

The tailor didn't seem to mind. "Of course sir. What did you have in mind?"

Here Kyminn did haul Jannen in with him, since he himself had absolutely no idea what to ask for. As far as he was concerned, a shirt was a shirt was a shirt. He had only vaguest idea as to what fabrics one could wear and even less as to what options there might be as to cut and style.

Fortunately, Jannen was quite willing to come to his rescue. The Herald and tailor were soon engrossed in a deep discussion filled with esoteric terms regarding hems, collars, cuffs and what not. Kyminn wondered if this what it sounded like to others when Healers got into technical discussions. Only with less blood.

They eventually settled on three shirts, two sets of trousers and two complete sets of small-clothes. Two of the shirts were of a fairly straightforward style of crisp linen. One was to be creamy yellow, the other a dark grey. The third shirt, "Because you'll want to dress up once in a while", was a stunning cobalt blue with a high collar. Kyminn almost balked at the cost, but relented when Jannen pointed out that part of the cost came from the clothing chit. The trousers were to be both the same style, but one in tan the other in the dark grey.

Bern produced a length of chain from one pocket and proceeded to measure Kyminn. Twice. Kyminn was intrigued to realize that the chain had small bead spacers every ten links, with every tenth bead being larger still. It seemed a very clever way to keep track. A young girl, heretofore silent, recited back the numbers as Bern called them out, recording them on a slip of paper. When the measurements were complete, Bern carefully wrote the details of the order on the slip, reading it back to Kyminn and then requesting that Kyminn sign it as correct.

"The small clothes can be ready in two days; the remainder can be ready by the middle of next week. Is that acceptable?" Bern inquired.

"Yes, thank you, that would be fine. Shall I come and pick them up?" Kyminn suddenly wondered if, in fact, he'd be able to find his way back to the store.

"If you wish sir. However, we can deliver if you would prefer?" A raised eyebrow of inquiry.

"Yes, thank you, if it's not too much trouble." Kyminn's relief at not having to find his way back overcame any reluctance he might have at the odd notion of having anything delivered.

Another careful note on the order slip, with Bern reading back Kyminn's address to confirm it was correct. If he was surprised to discover that Kyminn lived up at the Collegium, he gave no sign of it.

Jannen produced the chit, which Bern recorded and added to the order. Kyminn paid the balance, simultaneously aghast at the total bill and meekly gratified at how reduced was his own portion.

Returned to the street again, Jannen had every evidence of being pleased with their trip thus far. "Well, that was a good start." He moved off into the crowd, beckoning for Kyminn to follow.

"Start?" Kyminn scampered to catch up.

"Of course. Those are for going out, or times when you need to make a good impression – say if you and Healer Delassia were meeting with other Healers. Now you need decent day to day stuff, clothes that won't be harmed by a little dirt." Jannen cast a critical eye on Kyminn's current apparel. "Keep what you have now, we'll just add to it. You and I both know that Healing is messy work."

Their next stop was a series of used clothing stores. Jannen had a keen eye for good value and helped Kyminn pick out some heavy canvas trousers and linen shirts. While clearly used, they were clean and the seams were well-made. The clothes had been dyed neutral blues, greys and browns that would take dirt well. Like Bern's higher end shop, these shops were willing to deliver the packages. The difference being that for the smaller shops, the delivery fee was negotiated separately. Kyminn was more than happy to part with a few coppers if it meant not lugging packages around.

By the time they had finished with the bootmaker (to be delivered next week also), the sun had set and Kyminn was more than ready to sit down and eat. Jannen clearly felt the same way for he'd planned their route to finish up only a block away from a small ale-house.

The tap room was moderately full, but Jannen's whites ensured they got a small, quiet table to themselves not far from the hearth. Jannen requested 'the house pie' and a small beer. At his inquiring glance, Kyminn nodded agreement at the selection.

As they savored their drinks while waiting on their dinner, Jannen regarded the tired healer. "So?"

"So what?" Kyminn looked baffled.

"First impressions. How are things going? How are you feeling? How are you doing?"

The ale stein spun slowly in Kyminn's hands as he considered the questions. "I think things are going alright so far. Randen asked me the same things and I'll tell you what I told him – I've really only been awake and present for part of a day. I really haven't had a chance to get much an impression of anything yet."

Jannen let the comfortable silence draw Kyminn out.

"I guess…first impressions are good so far. Mostly. The Heralds and crown have been incredibly generous. Those rooms are far more than I need and I wasn't expecting the money." He looked up at Jannen. "I understand that all these things are…normal…for the situation. I mean, yes, Healers get paid and the accommodations are probably what people here would consider average. It's not what I'm used to, but 'not used to' doesn't equal 'wrong'. It's an adjustment is all.

"Healers…well, I've really only met two other Healers so far. Evin seems like a nice person and all. Healer Delassia…well…" he trailed off, reluctant to disparage a senior Healer to Jannen.

A sigh. "Yes. Well, she's not typical. What she is, is very, very good at what she does. You might want to think about spending some time with her. If you can look past her…personality…and lack of social skills, you could learn a lot from her."

"I probably could. And believe it or not, I sort of understand that kind of focus. I'm just not sure yet if I feel like subjecting myself to that kind of environment." This was wry.

"Can't blame you. Kind of like one of those foul-tasting but good for you concoctions you Healers are so fond of foisting on everyone."

Kyminn's smile slipped away again. "I'm supposed to see Evin tomorrow for training in my Gifts."

"And? You have concerns?"

A shrug. "Maybe. Sort of. I'm not sure what that entails. How involved with Healers do I have to be?" Kyminn continued to make rings on the table top.

Jannen started to speak, but paused while their dinner was delivered. In between bites of a truly delicious meat pie, he addressed Kyminn's questions.

"Evin is a very highly regarded Gift teacher. I checked once I found out he had been asked to help you. Normally, a Healer of his age would be assigned somewhere or have found a position. He was asked to stay and teach. He's an Empath, among other things, so you can trust that he's going to work for what's best for you. Being trained in your Gifts does NOT mean you are enrolled in Healer's. It's like any other Gifted who presented themselves to us. Your gifts are assessed and you are trained in their use and the ethics of your gifts. If there was any sign that you were the kind of person to misuse your gifts…there are procedures in place to handle things like that.

"In your case, you have a good grounding. However, with your grandmother's Gift being quite different from yours and she not having a back ground in the teaching of gifts, there are a few gaps in your knowledge." Jannen raised an eyebrow as an invitation to comment.

"Like my shields. And my Foresight," Kyminn winced.

"Exactly. Evin will help you master those. It will take a week or so. If you want to learn more about _applying_ your gift - that is, using your Healing Gift – then that's something else entirely." Jannen picked up his ale and leaned back in the chair with a replete sigh. "Kyminn, can I give you some advice, speaking as a friend?"

"I'd appreciate it, to be honest."

"See Evin and get your Gifts sorted out. Ask him what your options are about further training. I can't imagine you have to be enrolled in Healer's to develop your Animal Mindspeech or learn more about it. Spend the rest of your time working on Derris's care. And observe. You have a unique opportunity to move in and around the Healer's Collegium, part of it and yet apart. Take advantage of that to answer your questions and decide your course. Yes?"

Kyminn blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Yes."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Morning found Kyminn unexpectedly nervous. Breakfast, so recently indulged, seemed suddenly unsettled as he reported to Evin.

"Good morning Kyminn," Evin seemed unnaturally chipper for the early hour. His hair looked particularly alert. Evin favored Kyminn with a sympathetic smile. "You know, most people are nervous when they come for Gift training. Don't worry, I haven't lost a student yet."

Kyminn found himself smiling back in spite of his nerves. "I…ah…really have no idea how to go about this."

"Also normal. Let's start at the beginning. How did you discover your gift, what kind of training have you had to date, and what uses have you put your gift to so far?"

A deep breath and Kyminn launched into an explanation of the first, traumatic, discovery of his gift. Evin's murmur of "Fairly typical for a first expression of Foresight," was obscurely reassuring. Kyminn was surprised at how Evin managed to draw out details and nuances of his experiences. Evin's questioning made Kyminn see aspects to his Gifts that he'd never considered before. It was unsettling.

"Don't look so surprised Kyminn," Evin's tone said he understood Kyminn's confusion. "From what you've told me, your Grandmother's gift isn't particularly strong, for all that she's done some quite remarkable things with it. I'm not at all concerned that she wasn't able to help you beyond a certain point. She's given you a good start, but lacks both the knowledge of how to properly train a gift as well as the depth to see your gifts in action. Still, a very good start and I don't think it will take long to show you what's needed."

Kyminn wanted to bristle at the implied criticism of his Grandmother's teaching. He briefly wrestled with his instinctive defensiveness together with his promises to various persons - both two and four-legged - to explore a balanced view of the situation. Reluctantly, he had to admit that Evin had expressed only truths, and those diplomatically. Indeed, Evin had shown every sign of respecting the work done thus far. Kyminn nodded to himself, unaware that he was doing so.

Evin made note of both the internal struggle, and the outcome. "I'd like to see your Gifts, if I might." He raised an eyebrow in polite inquiry and reached out a hand, waiting.

Kyminn gave a small shrug of assent. He only flinched slightly when Evin gently rested a finger on his forehead. For a brief moment, it felt as though there was a second, cool presence, a sense of a polite observer, swiftly withdrawn.

"Well, your Gifts are certainly as advertised." Evin sounded bemused. "I can confirm Foresight, Mindspeech, Healing and Empathy, all very definitely on non-human channels. Most are Gifts I've seen before, the exception being that very interesting Foresight of yours. I did a bit of research while you were recovering and haven't really found anything quite like it. Lots of cases where Foresight included animals, but no case where it completely excluded humans. I'm curious – tell me, as many instances as you can recall, of times that you Foresaw something."

That took some thought as Kyminn tried to recall events over the past six years. Slowly, carefully, Kyminn recounted every instance he could recall, even the very regrettable hunting episode with Jannen. Evin carefully made note of every mention. By the time Kyminn wound down, Evin was beaming. "Kyminn, look at this," Evin slid the notes over to Kyminn.

'Foresaw swine slaughtering', 'hunting for deer', 'householder killing chickens for dinner' the list was nearly a page long, with the instances growing farther apart as Kyminn gained mastery over his shields. "I'm not sure what I'm looking at Evin," Kyminn confessed, sliding the page back.

"Look at it another way then. Not a single case of one animal hunting another. No wolves taking down deer, not even the barn cat chasing mice. More interestingly, you did NOT Foresee Derris hurting himself in the storm, or the horse kicking its stablemate. See the pattern?"

"Maybe." Kyminn thought fiercely, replaying events in his mind. "So," he assembled his thoughts as he spoke them, "I only Foresee an animal getting injured when a human is involved somehow? Someone hunting, or Randen riding Derris?"

"Exactly!" Evin sounded pleased at this deduction. "I admit that I was worried we'd discovered a completely new Gift and would be starting from scratch. But what you have is very much Foresight for human events, only focused through a non-human lens. It's not a common form by any means, but it's certainly not unheard of. Some Foreseers predict only storms, others only events involving fire. Yours involve animals. The only really different thing about yours is that you don't get a sense of the human at all, just the non-human. A very narrow focus indeed."

"I have to admit, I'm relieved to hear you say that," Kyminn admitted frankly. "I've always assumed that if I opened my shields I'd be bombarded every time an owl hunted a rabbit. In fact, I'd thought the only thing keeping all that…noise out _is_ my shields. That's one reason I was so surprised when everyone kept telling me my shields were poor."

"As to that, I suspect your shields are not quite as bad as you fear. Now that I know what we're working with, I think we can get them corrected relatively easily. While you do 'ground and center', your shields are not strongly linked to your center. My suspicion is that your Grandmother's shields work quite differently and that's what she showed you. Once I show you the right kind of shielding for your gifts, it should be simple. Then you can decide just how much you want to shield."

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'how much'. I thought that shields should keep everything out, unless I am using my gifts." Kyminn's brow crinkled in puzzlement.

"Yes and no." Evin held up a hand, "And no, don't tell me I sound like a Companion. Yes, because you certainly don't want to hear every animal in the place speaking to you. Nor do you want to feel the skittish mare who doesn't want to be shod. In your case, I would certainly suggest you block off your Mindspeech to all except those communications directed to yourself.

"However, you may," Evin stressed the word, "want to be selective in how you shield against your Foresight. Let me restate that – no one can really shield against Foresight, believe me, we've tried. Unfortunately for you, there are, on a daily basis, many cases of animal injury with a human agent. Everything from a cruel driver lashing his donkey to a drunk kicking a stray dog. You'd go mad within hours I expect."

Pale, Kyminn nodded, ill at the notion of that suffering flooding his senses.

"The best we can do is help you adjust your shields so that all but the most…significant events are filtered out." Evin was grim. "And yes, this means all but the worst, most serious injuries."

"That's pretty much the way it was back in Oakden," Kyminn agreed unhappily. "Derris's fall, a team of horses that got caught by some falling timber…things like that. It's like being dropped in a pot of memories and stirred."

"That last part at least I can help with. Once you are properly shielded, you shouldn't find things so disorienting. It won't be pleasant, but it shouldn't keep knocking you off your feet." Evin straightened up and said briskly. "Right. Let's get started then. Ground and shield."

Startled, Kyminn snapped his shields up, waiting for further instructions. Evin rose and began to pace around Kyminn's seat and Kyminn moved to follow. "No. Stay seated. Try to resist me."

Kyminn _felt_ something pushing at his mind. Uncertain how to respond, he _pushed_ back, mentally digging in his heels to stand firm. He thought he was holding his own until a very real, physical push left him sprawling on the pavement. He yelped with indignant surprise.

"Sorry." Evin didn't sound repentant. "It's one of the first things we show greenies when we teach 'ground and shield'. If you had been properly grounded, I wouldn't have been able to budge you. Here, let me show you." Evin lightly touched Kyminn's forehead again, saying as he did so "Ground is _here_ and center is _like this_. Feel the difference? Again."

They continued for another half mark, Kyminn sweating and tired by the end of the session. Evin nodded with satisfaction. "You're improving. I want you to practice what I showed you. We'll do some more work on this tomorrow." He clapped the tired Kyminn on his shoulder. "You're doing fine. You'll see. Better go. You don't want to keep Delassia waiting."

Kyminn groaned inwardly. He wasn't sure he was up for a verbal battering to go with the mental one he'd just experienced. Sighing, he hauled himself to his feet and trotted off to the Companion's barn.

To his relief, he arrived a few moments before Healer Delassia, gaining some precious time to rinse his face in the pump and try to tidy up his appearance a trifle. He hoped she didn't notice the smears from the many times Evin had knocked him into the dirt.

"Good morning Kyminn!" Randen slid down Derris's shoulder, a crutch slung over his shoulder. The Herald swung over to a nearby bench and settled himself in the shade. Randen took in Kyminn's hastily rearranged appearance. "Cat got you this morning?"

"A cat named Evin. Ground and shield. Apparently, I'm _not_ supposed to fall on my ass. Who knew?" The last was a mutter.

Derris and his Herald snickered in unison. Both attempted to school their expressions to appropriate solemnity as Delassia arrived. To judge by the stifled smirk on Randen's face, Derris wasn't playing fair.

"Senior Healer Delassia," Kyminn accorded her a respectful half-bow.

"Master Kyminn," one sweeping glance dissected his appearance, then promptly reassembled it. "Good to see you arrived dressed for dirty work. Too many youngsters these days seem to think that success can be had without sweat and dirty hands."

"I've never suffered such an aversion myself, Senior Healer," Kyminn murmured.

Delassia either failed to hear, or decided it wasn't worth noticing. "Now then, Companion Derris…"

For the next candlemark, the Healer put Derris through various paces, stretches and contortions. From time to time she had Randen mount while Derris repeated the stretches. Throughout the process, Delassia encouraged Kyminn to view Derris using his Healing gift, to see how each action affected the healing muscles.

"Master Kyminn, where precisely was the cranial superficial pectoral muscle penetrated? Was it anterior or posterior to the brachial biceps?"

Kyminn floundered, suddenly embarrassed. "I'm terribly sorry Senior Healer. While can show you exactly where the injury happened, I…don't know the proper terminology." He braced himself for one of her casually caustic retorts.

"Master Kyminn," impatiently. "Do you know why is it that Healers use the terms we do? Anterior, posterior, tricep, bicep, and so forth?"

"I…ah…It was explained to me that it was for clarity, Senior Healer."

"Precisely. Clarity. Precision. The work we do is extremely precise. A nerve bundle may be the thickness of a hair, and to damage that nerve might cause a patient a critical loss of sensation, or function. It is absolutely vital that we be precise." Still more pedantic than condescending, at least so far.

"Yes, Senior Healer." He bit his tongue against further comment.

"For that reason, we make sure our students learn correct terminology. It reduces confusion of action, of treatment. In turn, it permits everyone to a complete and identical understanding of the situation, yes?"

'Yes, Senior Healer." As far as safe answers went, it seemed to be holding up so far.

"If Companion Derris were a human patient, you would be able to describe his anatomy in precise detail, would you not? You did learn such things, presumably?" Definitely condescending now.

"Ah…yes, Senior Healer, I did. We had a limited number of Healer's reference books and I was given practical training as well." Kyminn reflected that having only four Healer's texts available could be considered to be a 'limited number'.

"And did you have any materials regarding equine anatomy?" Her tone had passed 'condescension' and was firmly launched into 'acerbic'.

"No, Senior Healer, I did not." Teeth gritted.

She sniffed. "Well then. I don't see how it would be possible for you to be precise about the Companion's anatomy if you had no access to the information." A gimlet eye pinned him in place. "You will present yourself at the main desk at Healer's no sooner than the third afternoon bell. Understood?"

Kyminn had a distinct sense of standing on quicksand. "Yes, Senior Healer. Ah, if I may ask, why am I to report?"

Kyminn got the sudden impression that he could not have confused her more had he suddenly started babbling in Karsite. "To pick up the reference materials. That I will be leaving there for you." She was clearly baffled. "You _do_ want to learn about Companion anatomy, do you not?"

He became aware that his mouth was open and shut it with a snap. "Yes, Senior Healer, I would appreciate that very much."

"One would hope so," she muttered, but as he suspected that he wasn't intended to have overheard the comment, he didn't respond.

Eventually, Delassia released Randen and Derris, leaving them with a strict schedule of drills and instructions to return three mornings from now. Watching them trot off, Kyminn reflected that Derris was moving quite a bit faster than strictly necessary, all things considered. He wished he join them.

"Kyminn, have you had an opportunity to begin your notes on Derris's case?" Delassia's question brought Kyminn's attention back to the present.

"I'm sorry Senior Healer, I have not." Kyminn debated explaining that he'd spent his first afternoon awake shopping for clothes, but quashed the impulse. He had no reason to justify himself to the Senior Healer.

Fortunately, she apparently accepted the notion that other mortals required things like food and rest, because she failed to comment on his delinquency. "Good. I would appreciate it then if you would make use of the provided references when writing your report. It will ensure your text is as complete as possible. In addition, it will give you an opportunity to learn the material." A satisfied nod. "I will expect both reports by the time I see you again, three days from now. Deliver the reports to my rooms. Anyone in the hall will tell you where it is." And with that, she swept off again, her greens and distinctive form creating a bow wave through the crowd of trainees.

Kyminn looked at the sky and sighed. Dear gods, it was only mid-morning. How was it possible that he was so tired?


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Perhaps it was an after effect of the strain of the past few months, but Kyminn found himself unexpectedly worn out by the morning's exertions. Between Evin knocking him in the dirt and an hour spent pacing Derris around the square, he felt decidedly grubby. He trudged back to his room, stopping to speak to the hall boy and request both lunch and dinner be sent to his room. That done, Kyminn indulged himself in the luxury of his private bathing room.

He was unaccustomed to having so much free time and determined to put it to good use. He couldn't begin the notes on Derris until he obtained the reference materials, but nothing prevented him from getting Randen's notes out of the way. He stopped just long enough to admit the lad with lunch, a bit bemused at how quickly the notion had become routine.

By the time dinner arrived, his notes on Randen's case were complete, including sketches of the pins used in the Herald's shoulder and a description of the therapies used during the long journey. He took advantage of the pause to return to Healer's. Kyminn inquired at the duty desk as to where one might find Senior Healer Delassia's room.

"I've a stack of things going that way, I can make sure yours are added to the pile." The young woman on duty waved vaguely at a stack of similar reports.

"Thank you, I would appreciate that very much. Ah…my name is Kyminn Danner. I believe there might be some books for me?"

"Oh! So you're the one she gave a couple of moons worth of reading to!" The woman grinned and produced an impressive stack of books from beneath the desk. Along with the stack was a scrawled note in an unfamiliar hand.

 _Kyminn,_

 _Please return these to me after you have finished reviewing them. The exceptions to this request are_ 'Foundations of Companion Physiology', 'Primary Traumas in Companions' _and_ 'The Basic Horse'. _The first two are texts I wrote. As such, I am of course familiar with their contents and do not require a copy. The third is a very basic primer, one I used during my early work on Companions. As I have long surpassed the knowledge therein, I no longer need it. You, however, will no doubt find it edifying._

 _In the event you wish to expand your knowledge of Animal Healing, you may wish to examine the following books. They can be found in the hall library. I imagine you can find it._

 _Healer Delassia_

Included in the note were nearly three dozen titles, all related to various aspects of Animal Healing. He suddenly felt rich - the coins in his room were nothing compared to this! He leafed through the 'Basic Horse' text as he made his way back to his room, running his fingers gently over the margin notes, evidence of Delassia's erratic intensity.

Evening faded to dusk and thence to moonlight as he read. Dinner was cold and congealed by the time he remembered to eat, but he was too engrossed in diagrams of musculoskeletal systems to care. Here, in black and white were the structures his Gift had shown him. Pieces of understanding that he hadn't realized were missing began to fall into place. He'd always known that he was considered an acceptably trained Healer, but now he wondered how much more he could do with access to the resources of the Collegium. He was still wondering when he finally crawled into bed.

 _SCENE BREAK_

At their session the next morning, Evin declared himself satisfied with Kyminn's progress so far. By the end of the candlemark, Kyminn was able to remain grounded three times out of five. "You had the basics, you just needed to refine your technique. Once your shields are firmly in place, we can start exploring your gifts and making sure you know how to make the most of them." Evin reached out a hand to haul Kyminn out of the dirt.

"So," the Healer said, settling himself down on the bench. "How's it going with your Foresight? Any more whispers?"

Kyminn shook his head. "All quiet so far. I have to admit that it's a relief. Can you tell me – is it that I'm shielding better or might it be that whatever was going to happen has already occurred?"

"You did say that you experienced these feelings over a long period of time," it was thoughtful. "That could mean one of two things. The first is that some people only ever get very vague warnings. In that case, it could well be that the event has already passed. But as that's not how your Foresight has operated in the past, I'm inclined to think it's the second possibility – that the event is still fairly far away in either time or distance. Your Foresight is generally very immediate and emphatic. Have you ever had impressions like these before?"

Kyminn shook his head.

"And it grew stronger as you grew closer to Haven, yes?" Evin prodded.

A slow nod.

"My gut feeling is this – whatever it is you are Foreseeing is still some ways off, that's why it is still vague. It is also tied to Haven in some way and is going to be a significant or otherwise notable event." Evin didn't sound happy.

"Is there anything I can do?" Kyminn ran a hand through his sweat-streaked hair.

"There's not much one can do. Foresight is not readily controlled. The only option that I can see is to thin your shields and see if the impressions are still present. You did say that they were constant, did you not?" Evin cast his student a querying look.

"Yes. They were happening almost all the time. It started as dreams, but by the time I got here, it was any time." A sour smile. "That's why I was so glad when I got help with my shielding!"

Evin's nod was profoundly sympathetic. "I can well imagine. It's possible," and he emphasized the word, "that if you intentionally try to access the vision, the pressure will be relieved. Your gift is trying to tell you something. It may be that your only option is to agree to receive the message."

"I've…never tried to do that. Get ahead of my Foresight I mean. Usually it just walks up and…smacks me." It was hesitant. To date, Kyminn's duels with his Foresight had not been pleasant encounters.

"I can help you," Evin volunteered promptly. "This is something gift-teachers are trained in, shepherding students when they try to consciously access their gifts. I'll be there to shield you if needed, or block if it looks like your Foresight is going to get out of hand."

"That would be a huge relief," Kyminn admitted. A wry smile. "No time like the present?"

"Indeed."

 _SCENE BREAK_

The chamber was a quiet, interior room, containing only simple wooden chairs. Kyminn noted that the room contained no lamps of its own – Evin had to provide one. Evin caught the puzzled expression.

"There are a couple of these shielded practice rooms here and at least one in the palace proper. Gifts…can be unpredictable, so we try to control the environment as much as possible. For Gifts that could be dangerous, such as Firestarting, we work outside. If you had say, a Fetching gift, we wouldn't even start you off in this room. It's possible that you might Fetch the wrong thing and the next thing we know, these chairs are missiles."

"Oh. I see." Kyminn sat gingerly in one of the chairs. "Now what?"

"Now we link and you slowly drop your shields. Don't worry, I'll be here to back you up if anything happens. I just want you to tell me what you See."

A deep breath and Kyminn carefully, cautiously, felt for his shields. They were solid, reassuring, his mind quiet behind them. He pictured the shields slowly becoming _thinner_ , the same way a wooden wall is thinner than one of stone. Bit by bit, the familiar chatter began to emerge from the silence. _Hurry_ it urged him. _Looklooklook._ The sense of urgency rose in him again, pushing him to some as yet unspecified action.

Kyminn paused, steadying his shields. Instead of trying to ignore the chatter or push it away, he let it flow over him, trying to taste it, touch it, get a sense of its size and shape. Still too nebulous, too misty. He thinned his shields a little bit more…

"Fire!" Kyminn gasped the word. Through the link, he felt Evin's steadying presence anchoring him to _here_ and _now._ "Fire…a Companion running through fire. He's…not hurt, not himself, not yet. But he will be. He's very frightened, almost terrified." Kyminn struggled to sort through the kaleidoscope of images and impressions. "There's a burning building."

"Is the Companion trapped?" Evin's calm question drew Kyminn's focus.

"No. Or at least, I don't think so." Kyminn's eyes were focused inward, on something only he could see. "There's something else…horses. Lots of horses. This Companion will be part of what happens to them. Oh!" Kyminn's breath grew ragged and tears streamed down his cheeks. "Pain! They're hurting! There's blood, and pain, and fear!" Kyminn was gasping for air now, shuddering with the intensity of what he was experiencing. With a groan, he snapped up his shields, cutting off the images.

"Kyminn, _when_ did this happen?" Intense, urgent. Evin reached through the link again, steadying Kyminn.

"Not soon," Kyminn hadn't even been aware that the Foresight contained a sense of _when_. But as he spoke, he knew his words were correct. "Not before winter. Spring…maybe summer. It felt…green…".

Evin nodded, slowly backing out of the link, making sure Kyminn's shields were stable before finally releasing the bond. "Kyminn, we need to report this. The Heraldic circle needs to be informed, especially because there is a Companion – and presumably his Herald – at risk."

Breath slowing, easing. Kyminn touched his face, surprised at the wetness on his cheeks. "How…?"

"We'll write it up and I'll make sure it gets delivered to the right people. Two copies. One for Healer's, one for the Heralds." Evin slipped out, returning shortly with writing materials. Before he let Kyminn begin writing, Evin walked him through the Foreseeing several times, probing, digging out details until Evin was certain that Kyminn's vision was squeezed of all detail and meaning. Only when Evin was sure the account was complete did he commit to putting it on record.

"There." Evin slid the papers into a trim stack. "I'll take care of this right away." He looked at the Kyminn, drained and slumped in the chair opposite. "You clean up, change and get some rest. Consider that an official order from your Gift teacher and a Healer." There was no levity in his tone. "Kyminn, Foresight is often ambiguous and is notoriously hard to interpret. Given your record of accurate and clearly predicting serious events, we cannot ignore the fact that you have presented an unequivocal Sight of a Companion in peril along with an additional severe event. Should you remember any more details, or have any more Foreseeings, it is critical that you record and report them immediately. Do you understand?"

Kyminn nodded, too weary and shaken to argue. He was only too happy to take Evin's prescription for rest. As sleep overtook him, he wondered if there was ever going to be a morning here in Haven that did not end with him completely knackered.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Awake and fed, Kyminn was still tired, but infinitely more coherent. Determined to get started on the second report, he inquired of the hall boy how to go about getting one of the slates the trainees were using. That query led him through a succession of persons, one of whom handed him off to one of the Healer instructors. That worthy listened carefully to Kyminn's request and simply nodded, saying only that Kyminn should return to his quarters and the matter would be taken care of. He had just started to sort through the materials at the desk when a trio of Healer trainees arrived at his door. They carried with them a slate much larger than the one he had requested, neatly framed and mounted on a clever easel. The chattering mob installed the contraption, left a basket of chalks and other supplies on the desk and with the usual polite "Will that be all sir?s", took themselves off, leaving a ringing silence behind. Whatever hidden faults one might find at the Healer's college, inefficiency was certainly not among them.

Thus equipped, he was able to begin the process of preparing Derris's case notes. Although no artist, the slate enabled him to make enough practice sketches that he was able to creditably transfer his thoughts to paper.

The process was slow and careful, but he found he didn't mind. Rather, this immersion into the details of his calling proved to be profoundly satisfying. By the time the final bell rang that evening, he felt he'd made a good start.

The next few days followed the same pattern – a session with Evin in the morning, with the rest of the day spent in his notes and books. He and Evin both agreed there was no discernable benefit in pursuing Kyminn's Foresight at this time. They did make a single experiment wherein Kyminn tested his shields permeability against the Foresight. To the surprise of neither, the previous urgency and "chatter" had vanished. Clearly the message had been delivered, although it still remained to be understood.

Pleased with his progress in developing his Gifts, Kyminn was equally pleased to present Healer Delassia with the requested case notes, precisely on schedule. He was thus somewhat baffled when she handed him a set of case notes in return.

Leafing through them, he was dismayed to realize he was holding his own notes on Randen's injuries, handed in to Delassia several days prior. The pages were liberally annotated in what he had come to recognize as Delassia's handwriting.

"Excuse me, Senior Healer, but…what are these?"

"Your notes, as written, could be improved. I have made notes to that effect." The senior Healer was watching Randen tack up Derris. She seemed to be making mental notes regarding the process.

"In what way? I realize I am somewhat inexperienced," he struggled to maintain an even tone, "however I assure you I followed the usual standard for such things."

"The usual standard, yes. However, they were not to my standards." Her tone was abstracted as she watched Randen and Derris begin their drills.

"I…was unaware that there were additional requirements." Kyminn experienced a sinking dread as he considered the three days of hard work he had just given the senior Healer.

"Master Kyminn," she dragged her attention away from Derris and her tone was the familiar tartness, "You are clearly an able student. You are, however, working at a level far below your potential. I regard that as a nearly criminal waste of your time and mine. If you wish to continue to thrash around in mediocrity, like a dog trying camouflage its scent in a dung heap, so be it. If, however, you wish to consistently produce results like that – "a sharp gesture at Derris, "- then you must be willing to put in the work. Otherwise you do a disservice to every future patient you treat. I will not let your ignorance cost a Companion his or her life."

Kyminn choked down his anger. He _was_ willing to work, dammit, hadn't he proved that already? Hadn't he done everything they had asked? Mediocrity? MEDIOCRITY!? He realized he was grinding his teeth and forced his jaw to unclench. He didn't yet trust himself to speak, so he held himself to a stiff nod.

"Besides," she went on, her attention returning to Derris, her tone once again distracted, "I've spoken with the instructors and some of the other Seniors. We intend to add this case to our Ethics class for the senior year students. It is thus critical that it be as complete as possible."

Ice water flooded through Kyminn's veins, freezing him to the ground and further, down to the center of the world. Ethics class? What!? Why?!

"Delassia!" Randen's voice was a harsh bark, deep with anger. "Look at what you've done!" The Herald gestured at Kyminn, abrupt and distressed.

The Healer spun to regard Kyminn, her head swiveling back and forth between him and Randen, her expression confused.

"Delassia, you're an idiot", it was barely more civilized than a snarl. "You've got him convinced he's DONE SOMETHING WRONG!"

"But…" she was puzzled, "Master Kyminn, did you really think that?"

The world swung around again, wobbled, steadied. Kyminn felt distinctly whipsawed. "You said it would be reviewed for Ethics…" faintly.

A casual, dismissive, wave of her hand, oblivious to _why_ he might possibly have been alarmed by her words. "Well, yes. Naturally. Really Kyminn, you do take everything to heart don't you? This is a perfect teaching case for our senior-level students. Tricky for so many reasons: many possible courses of action, medical and ethical complications, challenging setting…yes, a very good case for students to dissect and work through. A Healer finding herself thrust into a situation like this needs to be able to think things through with a clear head if she is to gain the optimum outcome. An excellent teaching case indeed." She seemed very pleased by the notion and equally clueless as to her effect on Kyminn.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, using his hand as a mask while he wrestled to arrange his features and emotions. Evin should just bring in Delassia whenever he needed to teach 'ground and center'. Just being in the woman's presence guaranteed to keep one off balance. Finally, Kyminn managed a weak wave of assent and tried to drag his attention back to Derris's therapy.

"So," Kyminn ventured, after what he hoped was a suitable interval, "how did you determine which drills and exercises would benefit Derris?"

Delassia's attention was on Derris, who was engaged in an odd series of crow-hops and vicious kicks. Her answer was a question. "Have you reviewed _Primary Traumas in Companions_ yet?"

"I'm afraid not. I was focusing on making a thorough report." He hoped it would sound diligent, rather than exculpatory.

"Hmm. Well. Companions aren't horses." She finally turned away from Derris and met his gaze. "I know that you are aware of this, but do you really _know_ it? Have ever actually seen a Companion in the performance of his or her duty?"

It was an interesting question. Kyminn had seen Derris's intelligence, determination and love for his Herald. He'd seen the other Companions performing a variety of activities – most of them involving bearing a Herald. Running, jumping…all of these things. All of them though, fundamentally horse-like in action, whatever the intelligence within. Clearly, Delassia felt he was missing something.

"I'd wondered." Delassia gave a brisk nod, a sure sign she was planning on rearranging Kyminn's life once again. "Read the preface and introduction to _Traumas_. I will make arrangements for you to observe a Companion at work. I believe you will find it educational."

"Save me from this woman's version of educational," Kyminn muttered. Delassia didn't hear him, but Derris's ears twitched.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Kyminn settled into his now-usual place at the desk. Before him lay two stacks of paper. The first was the extensively annotated case notes that Delassia had sent. The other was a stack of fresh paper, awaiting his expanded thoughts. Curiosity warred with duty, with curiosity winning. He lifted down _Primary Traumas in Companions_ and leafed it open to the Preface.

 _It is foundational to the treatment of Companions that the Healer recognize that Companions are much more than simply "not horses." While a majority of Healers may_

 _have an intellectual understanding of this fact, they often fail to fully appreciate the implications. This work is derived not only from_ _numerous actual records, but with the_

 _input of the Heralds and Companions themselves. It considers not only the training and capabilities of the Companions, but also their tasks and roles as well. It is hoped_

 _that the result underscores the point that – physiology notwithstanding – Companions do not_ _suffer the same injuries as horses._

 _Consider, for example, one of the noted physical traits of the Companion – namely his speed. A horse suffering a leg injury whilst at the gallop could be reasonably_

 _expected to experience a certain, largely predictable level of injury to bone, tendon, skin and other structures. Consider the same injury, with a multiplicity of_

 _velocity and force behind it. The corresponding damage would be immeasurably more severe._

 _The previous example is perhaps disingenuous in that it posits a situation that actually has a very low likelihood of occurrence. This is because Companions do not_

 _experience the same injuries as horses. Companions do not misstep. They do not shy, balk at jumps or flinch at obstacles. A horse will suffer_

 _burns to back and hindquarters as it flees a burning barn. A Companion is more likely to suffer injuries to head and forequarters as she runs_ into _the fire._

 _Rather than trying to start with equine injuries and extrapolate to a kind of 'superior war horse', the Healer must never forget the intelligent actor within, and should_

 _instead approach the issue from the perspective of 'If I had the shape and strength of a horse, how might I think, behave, and move, and_

 _what injuries might one incur as a result'? It is from this perspective that this work was compiled._

Kyminn sat back, mulling over Delassia's words. All of a sudden, he was intensely keen to observe this "demonstration."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

When Kyminn returned to his rooms the next day for his noon meal and customary afternoon of paperwork, he found a message had been delivered along with his lunch. It requested – instructed? – him to meet a Herald Keren later that afternoon. The time set was for the third bell and the location a training field, adjacent to the Herald's collegium. Kyminn had, by this point, spent enough time exploring the grounds that he had a pretty good idea of where he was to go. He was also reasonably certain someone would direct him in the event he got lost.

He needn't have worried. The field in question was extensive, anchored on one end by an open, level swath but breaking away at its far end to broken, scrubby ground, threaded by gullies and brush. A wide assortment of obstacles, barriers, poles, and other construction littered the course. A low fence, clearly more boundary than barrier, marked the perimeter. As Kyminn arrived, a lone Herald and Companion were soaring over the easiest jumps with a casual artistry that was a joy to watch.

The pair worked their way over to where Kyminn waited, the Herald dismounting with the same casual grace. Kyminn afforded them a polite and respectful bow. "Herald Keren? My name is Kyminn Danner. I hope I am expected by you and your Companion?"

Herald Keren was thin and wiry, her gaze frank and open. "Dantris and I were expecting you, yes. What is less clear is why you're here. Delassia's message was somewhat vague."

Kyminn wasn't sure if the Herald had intended to be as dry as the observation sounded, so he opted to ignore any implied sarcasm. "I happen to have a gift for Animal Healing. I helped Derris when he was injured a few moons ago." He paused to see if she was familiar with the incident. When she nodded to indicate she had at least some knowledge, Kyminn continued.

"Now that Derris is nearly recovered, Healer Delassia is focusing on physical therapies – exercises, drills, stretches and so forth. She is letting me observe and I asked her how a healer decides which therapies to use." An apologetic shrug prefaced his next words. "Although I have spent the last six moons in close company with several Companions, all my experience has been with either a profoundly injured individual or with Companions doing very slow-paced travel.

"I really have never seen a Companion working at his or her full capability. It occurred to the Healer and I that I don't understand the physical stresses or needs of a working Companion. I guess that what I'm trying to say, Herald, is that I am hoping you and Dantris would be able to show me the kinds of things a Companion does while on duty. That way, I might be able to figure out how to design a treatment plan that would _let_ him or her do those things." He looked at her hopefully. "Is that a little bit more clear?"

Keren nodded. "It is, I think. You have prior experience healing horses?"

An affirmative nod. "Yes, but since Companions are not horses…basic therapies that would return a horse to work as a dray beast might not strengthen the same muscles – in the same way – that a Companion might need while…running cross country…or whatever else he might be called on to do."

"Well," Keren swung back up into Dantris's saddle. "I made a guess, based on Delassia's note and it looks like I guessed right." She jerked her chin at something behind Kyminn. "This is the senior class of Heraldic trainees. All of them can be expected to graduate into Whites within a few moons. I think," and there was a definite twinkle in her eye this time, "that they will provide an ample demonstration of the kinds of things a Companion does."

Kyminn made a quick count of the group as they trotted past. Eleven gray-clad trainees and two other Heralds made up the crowd. Kyminn was surprised to realize that the two Heraldic assistants wore padding but the trainees themselves did not. The trainees moved off in a gaggle towards the level end of the field while the other two dispersed into the scrub at the other. Keren followed his glance. "The purpose of this drill is for the trainee to get from one end of the field to the other and return safely. The 'enemy' have padded poles dusted with coloured chalk, representing weapons. In order to be counted a successful run, both trainee and Companion must return unmarked." A sardonic grin. "A Herald on rounds doesn't wear amour as a matter of course. The point of this drill is to evade, not defeat. It's harder than you'd think."

Harder indeed, as the first pair quickly proved. The student and Companion opted to head straight up the middle of the course, no doubt hoping to leave themselves ample maneuvering room and avoid getting trapped against the boundary fence. Unfortunately for the pair, Herald Keren had foreseen this strategy and placed a series of wide barriers across that route, forcing the pair into a narrow track where an opponent lay in wait. In spite of the pair's prodigious attempts to twist, leap and evade, they were marked out when the Companion was tagged on his rear haunch.

As the exercises progressed, Kyminn's already vast appreciation for the talents of Companions multiplied exponentially. As the fourth pair started their run, Kyminn was struck by the realization that Heralds didn't ride Companions. Rather, they were _borne_ by them. To _ride_ implied that one party was providing the control, the direction. Instead, the students were _borne_ – two minds, eight limbs, one purpose. There was no other explanation possible for the unity of action unfolding in the field.

It was the fifth trainee who finally succeeded in completing the drill unmarked. The pair made it down to the far fence by making use of one of the gullies. The petite Companion mare avoided the entangling boulders littering the bottom of the gully and instead moved, catlike, from side to side, launching from one bank to the other, avoiding the blows raining down from above. When they finally broke from the far end, Kyminn found himself cheering, along with her classmates.

On the return leg, the pair seemed to be in more trouble, inexorably forced into the constricting barriers in the center of the field. While one opponent cornered the two and prevented retreat, the other broke around to the only possible escape and took up station at the exit. Kyminn was as puzzled as the other students when the Companion darted into a lane that clearly ended in a dead end. Instead of pulling up short and trying to backtrack, the mare spun, launching her hindquarters in a powerful kick. The resulting 'crack' was heard across the field as the side of the barrier suddenly sagged, one support beam snapped.

The mare spun again and launched herself at the gap, forelegs forcing the opening wider while her rear legs vaulted the two of them up, over and through. So fast was their action, both opponents were left far enough out of position that the mare and her trainee were able to dart across the line to safety. Kyminn wanted to cheer again.

It didn't surprise him when Herald Keren simply nodded at the trainee and said, "Good thinking. Well done." The past few moons had opened Kyminn's eyes with regard to the fact that life didn't play fair, especially to its Heralds. Success – and sometimes survival – solving the problem in front of you, not playing by the rules your enemies wanted to impose.

Kyminn watched the training for the remainder of the afternoon, observing the drills, the equitation exercises and more. He would have watched longer, but Keren finally turned the exhausted class loose to clean up and find their rest. "So?" Dantris loomed over Kyminn, the Companion's sides heaving at the stallion's recent exertions.

Kyminn looked up at the Herald, his nod profoundly respectful. "Thank you, both of you, for this opportunity. Dry facts in pictures and paragraphs cannot possibly convey any of this. I learned a great deal today and I'd be grateful for the opportunity to learn more. Would either of you mind terribly if I came and observed, from time to time?"

The two seemed to confer and finally Keren gave a grudging nod of assent. "Normally we discourage spectators. It can be distracting, especially to the younger riders and some of the less skilled are fairly self-conscious. Since Healer Delassia seems to feel this could be an important part of your Healer training, we're willing to have you with us for a little while. Would a fortnight be able to give you the information you're looking for?"

"I certainly hope so. If something comes up, I'll certainly ask you about it, if that's alright."

"Very well then. I'll send someone around with the training schedule. There are some drills we do with the younger students that I believe you might find useful."

"Thank you Herald Keren, Dantris." Kyminn nodded gratefully to them both. "I know that if my being here poses any kind of a problem for you, you will be sure to let me know."

The glint in Keren's eye suggested she wouldn't hesitate.

 _SCENE BREAK_

By then end of his first moon in Haven, Kyminn was chagrined to realize that he was bored. Evin had declared himself satisfied with Kyminn's shields and control and released him from classes. Evin had also pointed out that, should Kyminn desire further development of his Gifts, then Kyminn would have to apply for formal enrollment in the Collegium.

Jannen had since returned to duty, although he had stopped in to say good-bye before leaving. Jannen hadn't said when he expected to return aside from the very vague "Probably a few moons." As for Randen, the disabled Herald had been assigned a blend of teaching and judicial duties. Those, along with his continuing therapies, kept him busy. Kyminn knew that Randen would make time for him were he to ask, but Kyminn didn't want to inject himself into Randen's life and friendships. Further, Kyminn knew that although the two of them would always enjoy a significant friendship, it would never replace the kinds of bond Randen had with his fellow Heralds and the young Healer didn't want to see gratitude sour into resentment by overdrawing on their relationship.

Healer Delassia had – finally – accepted both sets of case notes, pronouncing herself satisfied with Kyminn's efforts. Kyminn had also, at her request, drawn up a proposed set of exercises, based on Derris's current progress. That Delassia accepted the suggestions without comment or revision marked a quiet victory.

Kyminn completed his fortnight of observations and had actually consulted Herald Keren about the exercises assignment. Even Kyminn's Gifts had been quiet, aside from a few brief, nebulous moments while observing the senior trainees. Kyminn had tried to pursue the visions, but simply got more of the same: weapons, Companions, violence – and not now. He duly recorded and reported the episode as he'd been taught, but was unsurprised when there was no follow up.

Feeling distinctly at loose ends, Kyminn wandered the grounds, his path taking him, as had become his habit, along the fence of Companion's Field.

 _:Kyminn:_

The sudden voice startled him and he glanced up, surprised to see Jareth blocking the path.

"Jareth! I haven't seen you since I arrived. How are you?" Kyminn was a bit surprised at how pleased he was at Jareth's presence.

 _:I am well.:_ Jareth's tone was somewhat distant and oddly formal. _:I believe this is the last time I will bespeak you, and I thought it right to let you know.:_ The soft nose gently nudged Kyminn. _:You are…out of sorts. I knew you would be. I was planning on waiting a bit longer, but…events have overtaken us.:_

"I'm fine. Wait, what events?" Kyminn was remembering how easy it was for conversations with Companions to quickly slide out of one's control.

 _:Events.:_ Ears twitched humorously. _:I promise to explain myself. I know you hate it when I don't.:_ The mind voice grew serious again. _:Well?:_

Kyminn didn't pretend to misunderstand Jareth's question. Not only was it futile – and foolish – to prevaricate to a Companion, he found that he really didn't want to.

"I guess…that I have to decide. Derris's case has long since been turned over to the Healers here, Randen is back at work and I've done all they need me to do with respect to them both. Evin has signed off on my Gifts being properly managed and I've learned how to handle my Foresight.

"I've done a bit of asking around and it's pretty straightforward. If I want to work as a Healer – which I do – then I need to ask the Healer's Collegium to verify my training. That actually won't take very long, and assuming I pass, I could don greens and do…whatever."

 _:And? What's stopping you?:_

"Seen from that perspective, nothing at all," his voice was full of doubt. "I'm still not sure if I want to wear greens and do that sort of Healing. I mean, I want to do both kinds, that's something I am more sure of than ever. I'm still worried about being not Gifted for people and wearing greens. I don't want to spend my life disappointing people because I can help their horse but I have to give them stitches instead." A small, wry smile. "Being around all these other Healers, I finally really, completely appreciate how…odd and in between…it was for my grandmother."

 _:And yet she did very well indeed in finding out how to use her Gift and her other skills. Tell me – would you say she had a good life? That she has been happy and been a benefit to those around her?:_

"Well, since I wouldn't be here if she didn't have at least _some_ kind of success…" Kyminn grinned, then sobered again. "But yes, I understand your question. I think that she would say that she's been happy. I think she really found her path once she was out on her own and working for the Guard. And I know she was very happy with my grandfather and with her life in Oakden."

 _:So that difficulty is something known to be solvable. You just can't see the solution from this side yet.:_ Jareth's tail swished gently, an oddly confident gesture.

"I suppose." Kyminn leaned on the fence, staring at nothing. "There's a lot of stuff that I'm not sure of. I'm not sure of where I'm going to end up, or what I might end up doing. And yet…" a gusty sigh. "And yet, it's not frightening. Not the way it was a few moons ago." He twisted back to look at Jareth. "Maybe I got older." Dry.

A deep snort. _:We all get older. One day at a time, just like the rest of the world. It's not like you're a tottering grey beard yet. So what's holding you back, if not fear? Is it Haven? Healers?:_

"I…" Kyminn was genuinely stumped. "You know what, I'm really not sure. Haven is alright – it's just big. Healers is…people. Some are easy to get along with, others…not quite so much." That was with a very Delassia-like eye-roll. "I'm sure there's conflict, and interpersonal squabbles, and frustration, but that's just…people. That's called being human. At least here it's clear that people really do care about making an effort to overcome the worst of it in us. They all try so hard to live up to the trust they've been given. It's…intimidating, somewhat."

 _:You have never struck me as the sort of person to be easily intimidated.:_ Jareth's customary tart tone asserted itself. _:When you're in your element, you're very self confident.:_

"Huh. Maybe that's why I'm hesitating. I feel out of my element here. I've come to realize there's a lot I need to learn. There's so much I _want_ to learn." Kyminn trailed off reflectively.

 _:Not NEED to learn. You could pass into greens right now, if you so chose. As to WANT to learn, that's a cat of a different colour. You've already learned a lot and Delassia's right – you could be even better if you wanted. The question is – Is that what you want?:_ The tail swished again, more authoritatively this time.

"I do." Kyminn straightened up and faced Jareth squarely. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two white shapes moving up to take flanking positions. "Jareth, there's so much I want to learn. I have no idea what the future holds, but I want to do the best I can with it. I…need to enter the Collegium. Formally, as a trainee."

Jareth let warm breath ruffle Kyminn's hair. _:Good for you. You'll do well.:_

The other two Companions had moved up and taken position beside Jareth. One was Bryann, the other a tall mare that Kyminn didn't know. Both newcomers radiated a sense of polite, but waning, impatience.

Jareth stepped back and lowered his head to Kyminn's level. _:As to what I promised before – about events overtaking us…we:_ and a head toss took in the three of them, : _Need your assistance:._

Startled. "Of course. With what?"

 _:Tacking us up. It's time. We're leaving. We're Choosing.:_ The mind voice was deep and resonant, with a longing and urgency beneath it.

"I see…." For a moment, Kyminn wondered if he should hope.

 _:No, Kyminn. I think you have quite a different path. One I think you'll find very rewarding indeed.:_ Gentle, firm, unspeakably kind.

Kyminn felt within himself for anger, disappointment, sorrow. Instead he found only quiet acceptance. He and Jareth had spoken of this before and this time it was no different. Something inside Kyminn knew he simply wouldn't be fully happy as a Herald. A small smile.

"Thank you Jareth. I'd be happy to help you all. And…I suppose…good bye. Your Chosen deserves everything you can give him or her. Thank you for being willing to speak with me all these times, and for your help."

A nod, a nudge and the four of them headed towards the Companion's barn and, beyond it, the Healer's Collegium.


	29. Chapter 29

_A/N For the record, the plan was for Jareth to slide quietly out of the story after the last chapter. Then someone said, "I wonder who Jareth Chose?"_

 _Since the answer was supposed to be "I have no idea, he just rode off into the sunset and lived Heraldically ever after", I really didn't expect to see him again._

 _Until that question._

 _And then I started wondering. And then he showed back up and this happened. Y'all have only yourselves to blame. :-)_

Chapter 29

The first bell woke Kyminn into the pre-dawn darkness. His small trainee's room was a far cry from the guest suite he had lived in previously, but this one had immediately felt far more homelike. It was the work of a few seconds to tidy the blankets and ensure the room was presentable. In the still-quiet bathing room, he checked his appearance in the polished plate and fingered his chin for stubble. Shaving was starting to become more and more of a necessity these days.

As he regarded the young man staring back at him, Kyminn wondered if he appeared as changed on the outside as he felt himself to be on the inside. The past four moons had seemingly vanished without a trace. Working lather onto his skin, Kyminn tried to catalog the changes.

First, there had been Jareth, Bryann and Shifa, leaving to Choose. They hadn't actually needed his assistance in getting tacked up, there was a team of grooms serving the unpartnered Companions who were more than happy to help. The request had been more in the way of a leave-taking, although Jareth had gently insisted that his own tack be seen to by Kyminn's hands. It was a warm reminder of their many days on the road and the hundreds of times Kyminn had fitted Jareth, Derris and Bryann into their harness.

Bryann had returned the soonest, appearing with his Chosen within a scant two days. Bryann's Chosen was a quiet, serious young woman. Stocky and dark haired, Herald Trainee Corielle was well matched to the solid and thoughtful Bryann. Just a few weeks into her training, she was already gaining a reputation for someone who thought before she spoke and who could be counted on to give a measured opinion. This, combined with a profound loyalty and deeply protective streak, augured well for her future as a Herald.

Shifa was the next to return, although it took her most of a moon to do so. Her Chosen was Herald Trainee Dar. Dar was possibly the smallest trainee ever to grace the Herald's Collegium. At the time of his arrival, he was also inarguably the scruffiest. The child of backwoods charcoal burners, Dar arrived completely illiterate but with an encyclopedic knowledge of all things woodland. Scrubbed, trimmed, and dressed in something beyond soot and rags, Dar proved to have an irrepressible cheerfulness and willingness to apply himself to overcoming any and all obstacles. Any who attempted to pity him for his past were treated to a shocked look and his tart rejoinder.

"Aye, but I be knowin' I have all the larnin of that there stone. But whut I does has is good fambly and no heart for shirkin'. 'Append that 'appy ain't all for gewgaws and whatnot. We as had naight fer things but alls fer us, and that twere enuf, belike. I'druther a cold hearth and warm fambly then warm fire and nobbut cold things. Poor an 'ungry ain't noble and I don't say tis. But oncet you gots that, don' need so much else as decent folk. And if the price for keepin' food on the table and decent folks about is a mite of 'ard work, well, thas alright nor me."

Jareth had taken fully four moons to return, having arrived early the previous day. Their appearance had caused a near riot of consternation both Herald's and Healer's. It was highly unusual, to say the least, for a Companion to arrive, exhausted and nearly freezing, bearing his newly Chosen. The sight of a staggering Companion bearing a bleeding and pneumonia - racked Guardsman right up to the door of Healer's had acted like a beehive tossed into a temple.

Kyminn had been assessed as far enough advanced in his skills to be assigned shifts at the duty desk. He was thus the first to encounter Jareth and his burden. Kyminn had paused only long enough to ring the alarm bell in the "minor emergency, more hands needed" sequence before leaping to assist. A flick of his Gift ascertained that Jareth himself was uninjured, freeing Kyminn to concentrate on the rider.

The first person to arrive was a fellow senior trainee and Kyminn promptly sent her pelting off to bring in assistance from Herald's. Two other Healers arrived on her heels. One helped get Jareth's Chosen out of the entryway while the second saw to Jareth. Cutting away the frozen coat, the other Healer asked "Any idea what happened? Why is a Companion bearing a Guardsman? And who is he?"

Kyminn busied himself with his patient. "I don't know. Jareth here," a nod in the appropriate direction, "left to Choose four moons ago. I am guessing that this," a nod for the unconscious man, "is his choice."

An affirmative snort and stamp confirmed Kyminn's guess. Jareth had come inside the flagstone entryway itself. He was being as unobtrusive as a Companion could be – which, in the confined space was 'not very'. It was clear Jareth had every intention of overseeing his Chosen's care as much as possible.

"Pneumonia, both lungs. Arrow wound…still embedded…right hip. Slashes, relatively minor but inflamed, right chest wall.." the Healer cataloged the injuries. He noticed that Kyminn had grown still and looked up sharply. "What is it, Trainee?!"

"This man. This guardsman. I know him." Kyminn's face was a study in shock. "His name is Allek Bellman. I last saw him last spring, when he was assigned to our village when we needed help with Randen and Derris. He's also my cousin."

"And now he's here, wounded and on an exhausted Companion. Well, mysteries later, treatment first."

Within a short time, the newly Chosen had been whisked away for treatment in one of the rooms set aside for Herald. Jareth, in turn had been settled into the adjoining Companion's stall. All in all, it took several marks and the presence of a mind speaking Herald before they got any answers. The tale, as relayed from Jareth, was more misfortune than mystery.

Guardsman Bellman had left Oakden not long after Kyminn had. The Guardsman's new posting was some distance away, along the Karsite border. It was a perilous posting and well lived up to the adage that the only thing to come out of Karse were bad weather and brigands. Still, Bellman had been hale, whole, and overwhelmed with joywhen Jareth appeared in late autumn and Chose him.

Sent on his way well equipped and with the envious good wishes of his comrades ringing in his ears, the newest Herald Trainee began the long journey back to Haven. An already quite passable rider, the pair were able to make excellent time, it being mutually agreed they would prefer to spend more winter in Haven rather than on the road.

A fortnight into their journey they encountered their first major storm. The waystation was spare, but more than adequate to the task and they were able to press on their way within a few days. Slowed by storms and impeded by snows, their pace slowed drastically. The third storm caught them out of shelter and only Jareth's memory brought them, snow blinded and half frozen, to the door. Unfortunately for them, they weren't the only party taking refuge from the storm.

The brigands within were warm, rested and well armed. When Allek pushed open the door, the surprise was equal on both sides. His guard training had his numb, mittened hands clawing for his sword even as he tried to back out of the room. The interlopers, suffering no such impediment, swung first. To Allek's credit, the swordsmen succeeded only in scoring a glancing blow to his ribs before he was able to twist out of the way. He threw himself back up on Jareth and withdrew into the storm. Neither of them even saw the arrow, shot blindly into the dark, until it pinned him to the saddle.

Wounded, outnumbered and under armed, there was no possibility of their retaking the waystation. Their only option was to press on, putting some distance between them and the foe. They traveled for another mark, trusting the snowfall to obscure their track and blood trail. They spent the remainder of the night curled under the sweeping boughs of a pine where Allek bound his wounds as best he could.

As soon as weather permitted, the pair detoured to the nearest guard station. There they were able to rest and have Allek's wounds treated. Although the post's Healer proved to be away, assisting a nearby village experiencing snow-fever, Allek's wounds were straightforward enough that the trained Guard assistants were able to manage. Getting the arrow out proved trickier, but it came out cleanly enough.

Within a few days, Allek felt well enough to travel. They left the Guard the problem of ousting the bandits from the waystation and resumed their journey. This time, Jareth was determined to move them as quickly as possible and began moving them cross country when possible, short cutting the wanderings of the track. Within a sennight, they were holed up again, waiting out yet another squall. This time though, the wound on Allek's hip was hot and swollen, and a deep, raspy cough had settled into his chest.

The conference between the two went well into the night. At Companion speed, they were little more than a sennight to Haven. Closer still were at least two good sized towns and several estates. While it was possible that one of the estates might have a Healer, it was certain that at least one of the towns would. The problem, like always, was one of time, space, and resources. In this case, clear weather. To divert for one of the towns risked being trapped there when the next big storm blew in. If there was no Healer, they could possibly run out of time. Back and forth. In the end, although he couldn't have said why, Allek pressed Jareth to head directly to Haven. With no reason to say otherwise, Jareth consented, and nine days later, staggered back into Haven.

Kyminn finished shaving and pulled on a clean uniform. Yesterday the Healers had removed strands of cloth from Allek's hip, forced in when the arrow pierced his skin. Embedded, the strands had festered. The wounds were now healing, but the pneumonia would take longer. Jareth and Allek were not among those assigned Kyminn as patients, although he fully intended to check in on them both. He didn't mind, he had more than enough to do as it was.

Although the Collegium had agreed that Kyminn could be passed into greens, the assessment had identified several areas where he would benefit from further study. As a result, he found himself enrolled in three senior classes for advanced learning and practical experience in surgery, bone setting, and obstetrics. The last was his weakest area – his mother and grandmother had generally handled most of those cases. He had ample training, but most of his practical experience had been with cattle and horses, not humans.

When his knowledge of equine obstetrics came to light, he was promptly informed that as Companion mares did not foal with the same ease as horses, a foal watch was always maintained when a Companion was near her term. While Heraldic trainees took on that duty for unpartnered mares, a Healer was on call for all of them. Kyminn would be added to that roster. He'd simply nodded and factored it into his schedule: classes, clinic duty, two afternoons a week seeing mothers-to-be at the Temple of the Three. Two afternoons at the Temple of Thenoth, developing his skills in animal healing. One evening a week in Ethics with Delassia and the senior review group. Chores in the kitchen and laundry.

Kyminn shook his head ruefully and headed for his shift in the kitchen. Life was certainly no longer boring. The chill winter air seemed to match his mood as he thought on what his Gift had told him in that brush with Jareth, a Foresight he had recorded and passed on to the Heralds the day before.

 _A Companion charging._

 _A flashing axe._

 _Companions and horses screaming._

 _A flash of white, rearing._

 _Death._

 _Jareth, screaming._

 _Summertime. Coming._


	30. Chapter 30

_A/N – My apologies for the delay. I thought I had written myself into a bit of a corner and was working on a way to figure a way out. Turns out I worried for nothing._

 _On the plus side, I got my original storyline back._

Chapter 30

With Jareth recovered and Allek's pneumonia on the mend, Kyminn's days settled back into a routine. It was a typical busy morning in the Healer's clinic – the usual late winter round of coughs, stomach upsets, and falls meant he didn't lack for things to do. He entered the waiting area, a bit relieved to see that only two patients remained. Make that one patient and a friend. The one Herald pointed sheepishly to his friend's distorted ankle, propped up on the bench.

"Let me guess. Ice on the path?" Kyminn helped the lame Herald to her feet. Foot.

"I'm afraid so." It was a pained affirmation. "I suspect I've probably gone and broken it."

"Judging from the fact that ankles aren't supposed to bend in quite that direction, I'd have to say you're right." The two men eased the injured woman onto a treatment bed. "Was your Companion involved? Is he or she alright?"

Both Heralds looked at him with the same peculiar expression. They exchanged a glance and the male Herald answered for them. "Do you know, you're the first Healer I've met who thought to add that question? Most Healers wait for us to bring it up. He's fine, thank you."

Kyminn was measuring and mixing herbs, steeping them in a small kettle kept ready for just such events. "Maybe I've met too many Companions." It was dry. "You know how they are 'I'm fine! Fix my Herald!' That's all very well and good, but I've met one or two you'd have to drag in by the headstall if you wanted to help them."

The Herald laughed. "I know what you mean. And don't worry, I'm not going to get all up in arms at the idea you might find Companions a bit too stubborn for their own good. I'm Jadus, by the way." The Herald reached out his hand to Kyminn.

Kyminn shook it automatically, his hand locking on the Herald's as his Foresight awoke, pushing him to…what?

 _Axe flashing. Companion screaming. Death._

 _Summertime. Action._

Kyminn blinked as his vision cleared. If Jadus had noticed, he said nothing, attention focused again on his injured colleague.

The healer lowered himself, careful to avoid jarring the bed. "I'm sorry Herald, but I never got your name?"

"Liana." Her voice had thinned with pain.

"Herald Liana. Your ankle is most definitely broken. I hope you aren't attached to that boot, because I'm afraid we are going to have to cut it off. I should let you know that I do not have the right kind of Healing gift to help you – my care will involve other means. To that end, I will be bringing in a Healer with the correct Gift for your needs. In the meantime, I'm going to give you something for the pain." He pressed a mug into her hands, steadying her grip until she had drained it all.

Herald Liana's face smoothed as the draught took hold, relaxing into a drugged slumber. Kyminn watched carefully, wary for adverse reactions.

"Herald Jadus, you may not want to be here for the next part. I'm going to cut her boot off and I'm afraid her ankle is a bit of a mess."

The Herald shook his head. "I'll stay. I can hold the leg still if that helps. We'll do what we can and let your colleagues save their energy for the Healing." He looked curiously at Kyminn. "If you don't mind my asking, what did you mean when you said you had the wrong sort of gift?"

Kyminn gestured for Jadus to firmly brace Liana's calf while he carefully, delicately, sliced the leather of the boot. "My Gifts don't work on humans. Interestingly enough…" he paused to carefully reposition Liana's ankle, "…we have learned that I can do quite a bit with Heralds, if their Companions consent.

"You see, if I use my Animal Healing and Animal Empathy to link with a Companion, and the Companion has the right sort of link with his Herald, then I can – well, feel seems to be the best word – the Herald's injury. I still can't Heal them, but if we were in the field and I were able to link with Liana's Companion, I would be able to set the ankle and _feel_ that it was correct. Otherwise, it would just be a very educated guess. This is something we only discovered recently and we're still exploring the idea. Since it requires a) an injured Herald and b) a consenting Companion, well, happily there hasn't been much opportunity to practice."

"Why didn't you try it this time?" At Kyminn's gesture, Jadus gently turned Liana's calf once again.

"Well, it's mostly something we'd prefer to leave as a last resort. Broken ankles can be tricky things. There are a lot of small bones in the foot and ligaments often tear when an ankle breaks. I'd much rather see it set properly by someone with the right sort of gift than maybe make a mistake setting it manually. Permanently laming someone because I want to practice my nifty new trick is nothing I'm interested in risking." Kyminn slipped the boot off of Liana's foot. He'd been so careful in his cutting and extraction that the ankle remained undisturbed.

"Well, that's very broken indeed. Herald Jadus, I'm going to fetch another Healer. You're more than welcome to stay, but she's going to be unconscious for the next several hours at least. Possibly a full day if the ankle is as bad as I fear. If you wish, I can have a message sent when she wakes."

"Thank you, trainee…" Jadus looked abashed. "I forgot to ask your name."

"Kyminn. Trainee Kyminn."

"Thank you Kyminn."

For just a moment, it felt like Randen's voice.

 _SCENE BREAK_

As it turned out, Herald Liana had broken her ankle rather badly indeed. Her case was transferred out of Kyminn's care into the hands of a more experienced Healer. Kyminn remained on her care team though, as hers was deemed to be a good teaching case for the senior students. The serious nature of the fracture meant the healers resorted to a brace and pin contraption similar to the one used on Randen's shoulder.

Kyminn was reviewing that day's case notes, double checking that he hadn't missed anything, when a soft knock jerked him out of his concentration.

"Herald Jadus! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. If you've come to see Herald Liana, I'm afraid she's asleep. We've just finished a rather intense Healing session." Kyminn stacked the notes and tucked them into their file.

"Actually, I've come to see you. It's my understanding you are finished here for the day?" Jadus seemed oddly formal.

"I am." Kyminn was politely cautious.

"First, let me assure you that you are not in any kind of trouble and your status here is in no way in jeopardy." Jadus paused to make sure that Kyminn had taken in this rather alarming preface. At Kyminn's nod, the Herald continued. "Your skills, and some recent Foresights, have brought you to our attention. There are some members of the Circle, as well as your Dean, who need to speak to you."

 _SCENE BREAK_

Jadus escorted the increasingly apprehensive Kyminn to a part of the College he had never seen before. In fact, Kyminn was fairly certain they had left the College and were in the palace proper. This knowledge did absolutely nothing to relieve his anxiety.

Their destination proved to be a large office, currently occupied by an alarming number of senior-looking Heralds. Jadus politely ushered Kyminn inside and then closed the door behind them. Kyminn wondered if the sound of a lock clicking was only in his imagination.

"Please, Trainee Kyminn, have a seat." The Herald behind the desk was wearing an elaborate set of Whites, although the Healer in Kyminn noted the many small signs of overwork and strain in his face and demeanor.

Kyminn carefully slid into the indicated chair, his hands folded tensely on his lap.

"My name is Talamir," the Herald began, an eyebrow quirking at Kyminn's startled expression. "This is Herald Joyeaus, the Lord Marshall's Herald," a nod at the Herald seated on his left. "Weaponsmaster Dethor," this to an older, lean, hard Herald, his hands calloused and strong. "And I believe you know Dean Tannel of Healers." Kyminn nodded to each of the men in turn with a slightly deeper nod for his own Dean.

Dean Tannel took over. "We have been reviewing the reports you have submitted regarding your Foreseeings. Is there anything that you can add? An impression that you were too uncertain to record, or perhaps a feeling that didn't lend itself to the written record?" The Dean's level tone was encouraging, not censuring.

"I haven't had anything new, not since the flash when I met Herald Jadus a few days ago." A nod to Jadus. "They are all much the same. Horses and Companions, lots of both. Everything feels very…chaotic, like I'm seeing dozens of images. A bay flank here, a bit of white foreleg…" he shrugged in frustration. "It's like someone dropped a wooden puzzle and all I can see are the jumbled pieces."

Tannel sighed. "Unfortunately, that's all too often the case with Foreseeing. You said you had a sense of time?"

Another frustrated shrug. "Yes and no. For the longest time, it was just a general sense that I needed to _think_ about doing something. Now though, it feels like I _should_ do something. Usually, I only get a few moments, or a mark or so, of warning. This has been going on for moons now and it feels like…like it still has a very long time to run. Some flashes feel more immediate, others more distant." His tone was manifestly unhappy. "I'm worried that what I'm seeing is something that is going to go on for a very long time. Or be very…significant."

The Heralds and Dean Tannel exchanged grimaces. Clearly this possibility had occurred to them as well.

"Kyminn, do you know the purpose of the Monarch's Own?" Talamir's question diverted Kyminn from the grim direction his thoughts had taken.

"Sort of, sir," Kyminn offered. "The Monarch's Own is a special Herald that directly helps the king."

Talamir nodded. "True, if a little simplistic. My job is to serve and protect the monarch. That means not just standing beside him at public events to protect him, but also defending from other threats from inside or outside the kingdom. That includes finding people or nations that want to hurt Valdemar, or identifying political concerns within the kingdom."

Kyminn nodded his understanding.

"As it turns out, Herald Liana has a very powerful – and unusually clear – gift of Foresight. She had some very interesting things to say about you. Apparently, trainee Kyminn, you are very definitely a piece of that puzzle you mentioned."

Kyminn blinked. "Sir?"

Talamir glanced at the Dean. At Tannel's nod, Talamir continued. "Kyminn, as a Healer, you are required to keep your patients' confidences, true?"

"Yes sir."

"The discussion we've had so far has been very general. A number of people are aware of your Foreseeings, and I think it's obvious that your Foreseeings generally ask for action on your part. Thus far, what we've discussed falls into the 'Confidential because nobody else really needs to know' kind of 'no need to discuss any of this'." A questioning look.

A bit baffled, Kyminn nonetheless nodded again.

"Kyminn…we believe that there will be – or could be – a significant benefit to the kingdom if you were to become more…involved…in trying to manage whatever it is that may be coming." Talamir chose his next words carefully.

"You do not have to do this. If you choose not to do so, please know that there will be no mark on your record, no effect on your future as a Healer. You are, by all accounts, a very able young man and have a bright future ahead of you. You are free to decline.

"However," and Talamir's eyes grew dark. "Your safety is not guaranteed. Furthermore, this is a matter that is not only confidential, it must be considered to be secret. The fact of your involvement will be known only to a few and you may well find yourself having to misdirect your friends and classmates. It will not be a comfortable situation."

"I can't say I like the idea that I could end up lying to people," it was frank. "And goodness knows I'd rather not get hurt. But…" he looked at each of the other men in turn, finally fixing his gaze on Talamir. "One of the reasons I was reluctant to come to Healer's was because I'm not a traditional sort of Healer. I didn't want to constantly disappoint my patients and to spend my time mending lap dogs." He paused, realizing how petty that sounded.

"Please don't think that I don't see a value in curing someone's hunting hound, or their milch cow. I know that sometimes a small application of my Gifts, in the right place, can make a big difference in someone's life. I think that what I'm trying to say is what I want – what I've always wanted – was to use my skills and Gifts in a way that matters, to do as much good as I can with them. If whatever you are proposing does that, then yes sirs, I'll do it."

"Would you be willing to swear an oath of secrecy while under a Truth Spell?" Talamir was sober.

Kyminn hesitated. Not in doubt, but in thoughtful consideration of the implications of the request. "I will, Herald Talamir."

At a nod from Talamir, Jadus did…something. Talamir asked Kyminn to repeat his willingness to assist, his understanding of the need for secrecy and a brief oath. Kyminn did so, a trifle disappointed that there had been no discernible effect.

"Thank you Kyminn," Talamir looked oddly relieved. "While we didn't doubt your probity – you may be gratified to know that several Companions spoke on your behalf – we did want to make sure you fully understood what we are asking and that you had no hidden reservations." He took a deep breath. "Kyminn, you were correct when you suggested that something significant is coming. It is our belief," a meaningful glance at the Lord Marshall's Herald, "that open conflict with Karse is coming. Soon. We expect that this summer will see significant clashes, if not outright war."

Kyminn wanted to cringe, but couldn't. _War._ It had been there, unsaid, behind every word spoken this evening. Every time he'd recorded a Foreseeing, he had been unable to come up with any other explanation for visions that involved so many horses, so many Companions, so much death.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Herald Joyeaus finally spoke. The diminutive Herald had an astonishing 'presence' for so small a form. Kyminn was reminded of Herald Tarva, whom he had met a lifetime ago in Oakden. Clearly, life as a Herald had drawn out all the untapped potential in these women and refined it until they shone.

"Kyminn, we need you to buy us some horses." A small smile creased a face well used to such expression. "The plain fact is, the Guard – and the Army, are going to need mounts. We are going to need lots of them. Your Gifts give you a decided advantage when it comes to assessing the health and temperament of beasts."

"That is true, milady, but I have to be honest; I don't know what to look for aside from the obvious aspects of health, strength and stamina. Heavy beasts? Fast ones?" He spread his hands helplessly, gesturing the extent of his deficit.

"And for that reason, you won't be alone in this. We are assembling a team, of which you will form an important part. To that end, we will be adjusting your training quite drastically. Dean Tannel?"

The look Tannel gave Kyminn was equal parts challenging and sympathetic. "The crown currently buys horses from a number of sources. Some estates have contracts to supply a certain number of beasts each year. Those contracts will continue and will be managed through the usual channels. Your team will be traveling to smaller estates, holdings and sometimes even larger farms, buying up appropriate stock. As you gather a string of beasts, you will turn them over to the nearest army post or guard station, where they will be appropriately delivered. There may even be a pure white horse or two in your string at any given time."

Kyminn tried – and failed – to hide a small smile of understanding. "I thought that…white horses…couldn't be readily disguised?"

"Not generally, no." Herald Joyeaus' eyes had a distinctly mischievous glint. "However, they seem to have a natural talent for camouflaging themselves, when they need to."

"I see," and Kyminn did. "And would it be possible that it's not only horses that we'd be collecting on our travels?"

"Told you he was quick," Tannel murmured from his corner.

"Exactly so. It is my understanding that your Gift of Animal Mindspeech lets you share what a beast sees and hears?" Joyeaus inquired.

"It does, but I generally have to be in a light trance if I'm to get any kind of detail. General impressions and feelings are easy. Anything else needs a bit more concentration."

"Could you…say…drive a wagon and listen to what a horse is hearing?" Joyeaus cocked her head, her gaze shrewd.

Kyminn considered it. "I think so, yes. Provided we weren't driving anywhere complicated. Certainly not in a town or anything."

Joyeaus nodded, pleased. "Excellent!"

"This is all very well, but this is not, by any means, a _safe_ thing we are asking you to do," Dethor shook his head, cautioning. "Can you use any weapons? Do you know any self-defense?"

Kyminn looked unhappy. "No sir."

"It's my understanding that you grew up in a small country village. Did you ever hunt game with a bow or sling?"

Kyminn tried to hide the wince. "No sir. With my kind of Foresight…hunting animals just wasn't a good idea for me." He looked a little green.

"Makes sense, I suppose." Dethor looked at Tannel and his tone was emphatic. "He needs to get into a beginner's class immediately. There's no time for him to learn much in the way of weapons-work, but he can learn how to break free and get to safety. We'll get him started on some basic knife and bow work, but he'll have to drill on the road." His expression said he was profoundly unhappy with sending Kyminn out so ill-prepared.

Talamir looked equally unhappy, but resigned. "That's one reason we're sending the others with him. Not only because any buyer would need additional hands to manage the string, but for instruction and protection as well."

"Excuse me sirs, milady. Am I allowed to know who I'm travelling with, and when? Or has that been decided?" Kyminn directed the question to the room at large.

Talamir took the question. "As it stands, there are four of you. You are Kyminn, a beast healer under contract to the army to help select suitable animals. You will be travelling with a medically retired 'guardsman' who will act as your drover and camp manager. I believe you know him – his name is Randen." Talamir paused to acknowledge Kyminn's grin of delight at this. "Also in your party will be an army Captain that we have detached for this duty. She is recovering from a serious injury and has been driving the Healers mad, begging to get back to work. You," Talamir pointed at Kyminn, "will oversee her rehabilitation and she, in turn, will supervise your weapons work."

"Not to put too fine a point on it, Talamir, but there must be some other reason beyond 'bothering the Healers' that you are sending this Captain away for several moons." Joyeaus tapped the table meaningfully. "You have something else up your sleeve. Give."

Talamir smiled. "Well, I will also admit that she's a cavalry captain, so she has an intimate knowledge of our needs in that regard. And as her last name is Ashkevron, well…I think it's pretty clear she knows horses."

Dean Tannel gave a choked laugh. "Yes, I imagine she does. Excellent choice, Talamir. And, like always, solving multiple problems with one toss."

"Finally," Talamir shrugged. "We decided the group needed someone with both decent Mindspeech and at least a moderate Fetching gift. Guard or army experience is also important, since that's the focus of this little plan we've hatched. We would have liked to assign another Herald, but the plain fact is that we don't expect to have any to spare. So we're doing the next best thing and sending along a Herald Trainee. The Trainee in question doesn't require much additional training and Randen will act at his mentor, doing it the old style. As Trainee Bellman is already weapons trained, and his Companion Jareth is a mature and stable individual, we think it will work."

Kyminn tried not to look excessively delighted at the notion of going on the road with Randen and Jareth once again. Instead, he simply tried to remain unobtrusive while some of the most senior members of the kingdom hammered out his future.

The team would, they decided, not be seen to be working as direct agents of the crown. Instead, they were to be brokers, gambling on the rising troubles on the border to provide a market for good beasts. Randen's injury made him a plausible figure for the taciturn, somewhat embittered former guardsman role. Captain Nikki Ashkevron would drop her distinctive patronymic and travel as Nikki Forster, another injured retiree. That she would be less and less 'injured' as time progressed was something only the team needed to know.

Allek was simply a hired hand, a young man who'd left home to join the Guard but found it not to his liking. His term up, he'd mustered out and now took what work as may. Kyminn himself also travelled under his own name and history, with a small, but significant exception. Dean Tannel explained it.

"Kyminn, while you are more than qualified to be awarded your Greens – and we will not withhold them – we would prefer it if it were _not known_ that you have them. You have become quite well known in the short time you've been here. Talamir here has even heard talk among the 'hounds, hawks, and horses' set among the nobles about a particularly talented new Animal Healer. In fact, I'm rather surprised no one has yet approached you to treat their prize bloodstock. That would change the minute we put you into Greens, making it difficult for you to quietly disappear."

"I understand, Dean Tannel. And honestly, while I'd never let a beast suffer, I'd rather not get drawn into that kind of path. In a lot of ways, it's just easier if I don't openly wear Greens." A whimsical smile. "It was never about being publicly acknowledged as a Healer. It was always about making sure I had all the right training and skills for who I am, to use my Gifts however it is that I'm meant to."

"No fear on that score. And for what it's worth, your standing as a fully qualified Healer will be properly recorded here; as well as all the Guard, Army and Houses of Healing being notified. They will also be advised that you do not advertise the qualification and that they are not to do so either. It probably won't hold up for too long, but I suspect that it will become a non-issue in the near future." The last was bleak.

"In the meantime," Talamir took up the reins again. "You will be – at least in public – transferred out of Healers and enrolled as a Blue. If anyone asks, it's because you have been offered a position as a beast Healer with the army and have negotiated some cross training in preparation for the job. This will explain your sudden interest in weapons-work, equitation, and the military. In addition, you and your team will spend time with Dethor here, building your personas and practicing your roles. You will continue to work with Healer Delassia on your equine healing – although she says you are already at a high level. You and Captain Ashkevron will work with Herald Keren, both building your equitation skills and giving you a crash course in cavalry drills and the war-training of horses."

"When will all this be happening, sir?" Kyminn's head swam with the proposed curriculum.

"Tomorrow. It's mid-way through First moon now. You'll be leaving no later than midway through Fourth, as soon as the roads will reliably take a wagon. And no, it's isn't nearly enough time to learn everything you need. Yours and Allek's educations will continue on the road." Talamir sighed, "I hope you don't plan on sleeping much for the next little bit."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

A part of Kyminn wondered if Dean Tannel didn't have a sadistic form of Foresight, because the "not sleeping" prediction came true mere hours following that memorable evening gathering. In spite of all their preparation, they had all expected to implement the changes to Kyminn's status the next morning. Which meant he was still on his usual duty rosters that night. He had quite forgotten this fact until a Herald Trainee thundered on his door just after midnight.

"Wake up Kyminn! You're needed in the Companion's stable immediately. I'm to also fetch Healer Delassia," and the youngster spun away and pelted down the corridor.

Kyminn stamped into his boots while shrugged on the nearest clothing he could find. He was still donning a heavy cloak as he worked the outside door latch with one elbow and ran into the night. Only months of familiarity helped his feet stay on the path as he ran. He found himself simultaneously wishing he'd thought to bring some form of illumination and praying he didn't encounter any ice.

On this cold night, the Companion's stable was mostly full. It should have been warm and quiet, full of drowsing white forms and the soothing musk of horse and hay. Instead, every white head was focused on a single stall, where a Companion groaned in the straw.

Kyminn tried not to blanch. The mare was heavily pregnant, struggling not to strain. Foals, both horse and Companion, were normally born forefeet first, the head tucked down along the forelegs. Instead of two small forefeet, a single _rear_ leg protruded. He reached out with his Gift and made an instant decision.

"Herald!" Kyminn shook the shoulder of the man kneeling at the Companion's head. "Can you Mindspeak?"

The Herald shook his head, his face a mask of worry. "Only Nela here."

Kyminn addressed the stable at large. "Someone Mindspeak your Chosen. We're going to need more Healers here. And see if someone can tell Delassia we're going to need the surgical gear." He turned his attention back to the Herald.

"Herald, we're going to need hay bales. She needs to be on her back." Kyminn suited action to words and began shifting bales to brace the mare.

"What," the Herald helped him place a bale, "Are you going to do…Trainee?" The last was with a sudden uncertainty.

"We," Kyminn knelt by the Companion and addressed her directly, "are going to save you and your foals."

"Foals?" The Herald looked startled.

"Foals. Two of them. One is breech, the other head down. They are tangled and cannot be delivered. However, they are both still alive and will continue to be so, provided we act quickly."

A swirl of green erupted into the stables. The next mark or so disappeared in a blur of organized chaos. With so many other Healers present, there was no need for Kyminn and Delassia to strain their own Gifts, but the effort of channeling so much energy left them both exhausted. Four lives to save – three in white bodies, a fourth who needed his heart to live if he were to remain whole.

Kyminn wearily washed yet another Companion's blood off his hands and arms, reflecting on the extraordinary road his life had taken. He smiled warmly over to where the Herald was stretched out on a bed beside his Companion. Nela was drowsing, pushed into a healing sleep; her twin sons, healthy and strong, curled up in the straw beside her. Kyminn was suddenly very glad he'd come to Haven.

 _SCENE BREAK_

He was definitely less glad the next morning, when he awoke before breakfast and slogged through the swirling snow over to the salle. He'd never actually gone into the imposing building, although he'd walked by it any number of times. This time though, he pushed his way in, carefully latching the door against the winter wind.

"Good morning Master Dethor." Kyminn was unsurprised to see the armsmaster waiting for him.

"Good morning Healer Kyminn." Dethor cocked his head, adding, "I'm given to understand you had an eventful evening. I have to admit, I thought you might have asked for a postponement, given how little rest you've had."

"I don't mean to sound flippant, Master Dethor, but I am quite sure you would not have granted one even if I had asked. As the events of last night demonstrate, emergencies don't wait until one is rested. I am quite sure that brigands won't either."

Dethor didn't respond, but Kyminn got the sense his response had been the correct one. In any event, if he'd pleased Dethor in some way, the armsmaster certainly didn't let it show. For the next two marks, Dethor ran Kyminn through a grueling series of exercises, stretches, and tests of both strength and stamina. He also had Kyminn attempt most of the basic sorts of weapons: knife, small sword, hand axe and similar. To neither of their surprise, the only weapon Kyminn handled with any kind of familiarity was the hand axe. By the end of the session, Kyminn was as exhausted in body as he was in mind.

"Enough. I can place your level. Although you have no experience with weapons, you have your adult strength and reach, which will help somewhat. You are somewhat fit, which we will improve. Your coordination seems to be reasonable. As there is no time to turn you into any kind of a fighter, we are going to concentrate on keeping you alive. Your training will focus on breaking holds and getting to safety. As you have some knowledge of the axe, I will teach you how to use it as a defensive weapon. Return here at the fourth afternoon bell." Dethor's expression dared Kyminn to complain.

Kyminn wasn't that stupid. "Yes, Master Dethor."

Kyminn dragged himself back into the icy dawn. He had just enough time to clean up and grab a quick breakfast. When he'd returned to his room, he'd found a copy of his new schedule and a replacement uniform, this time a pale blue. It was surprisingly difficult to take off the pale greens and don the neutral blue. It felt as though he had lost something, even though he knew he hadn't. He wondered what his old self would have thought.

Breakfast was…harder than he'd thought it would be. Although he'd only been at the Collegium for a few moons, he had slipped easily into the senior class. He had thoroughly enjoyed the learning and having like-minded people to discuss new ideas with. He hadn't realized how much he would miss it.

"I've accepted a position as an Animal Healer with the army. I've been offered some cross training in those sorts of skills to help me prepare. My Greens? As I'm not going to be Healing people, I won't really need to wear them." He lost track of the number of times he repeated himself, as fellow Trainees in both green and grey came up to ask him about his new uniform.

He found it interesting that for the Herald Trainees, congratulations came first, many expressing interest at his coming posting. Their primary concern was that he had found something personally challenging and satisfying, Greens or not. The Healers, on the other hand, were the opposite, expressing shock, sorrow, or even anger at the idea he would not be donning Greens. Several, to his immense gratification, offered to press the Dean on his behalf. Only after repeated assurances that he fully accepted the situation did they relent.

Ironically, that first day ended up being the quietest he enjoyed for the next two moons. After breakfast he checked on the Companion Nela and her sons, who were all doing well. As he was to continue his expertise in all things equine, he had been retained on her case. The remainder of the morning was spent divesting himself of his human patients and seeing Jadus for materials on military history, strategy and cavalry tactics. The resulting pile of reading was daunting.

A messenger found him at lunch, with instructions to report to the stables first thing that afternoon. To his surprise, it was Herald Keren who met him.

"Your cavalry Captain is still bed-bound, although I assure you she most emphatically wanted to be here. However, as she is currently recovering from two badly broken legs and some broken ribs, she is unavailable." The Herald's tone was her customary wry dryness. "As I will be your equitation instructor, I've been sent to help you select your mounts."

"Pardon?" Kyminn rocked back in surprise.

"I don't know what Talamir has up his sleeve and I'm not going to ask. Apparently you require a mount and a remount. I've been told that both should be 'suitable for use as scouting or light cavalry'." She eyed him from the corner of her eye. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Herald Keren, the only thing I can be sure of temperament, health and intelligence. Aside from that...I admit that I have only the very vaguest of notions," Kyminn admitted frankly.

Kyminn hadn't expected the process to be so simple as a parade of horseflesh while he mindspoke each beast to determine if it were suitable. What he did not expect was how very thorough Herald Keren would prove to be. The majority of the animals were easy to eliminate on the basis of obvious unsuitability: 'all flash but no substance', 'fast enough, no stamina', 'dumb as a box of rocks and meaner than a bucket of rabid rats'…one by one prospective candidates were rejected. That left only nine animals, and those ones Keren insisted on testing in exhausting detail.

Keren had Kyminn try each of the remaining, putting them both through a series of jumps, obstacles, and complex maneuvers. Fortunately for all concerned, they did not have to resort to the customary tests involving loud noises and unexpected motion – Kyminn's mindspeech gave them far better insight into each beast's temperament than they would have had otherwise.

As Kyminn slid down from the ninth and final beast, he was deeply chagrinned to realize how very, very long it had been since he had spent so long in a saddle. Keren caught him pressing a fist into his sore back and shook her head. "You're a Healer, so I presume you know how to properly stretch out those muscles, and to not stint on the salve?" At his nod, she jerked her chin at the patient beasts in the pen. "Well?"

In the end, they agreed on two geldings. One was a pale, dappled grey, block-headed and square shouldered. He was far from the most handsome of the lot, but Kyminn was well aware that he was far and away the smartest. The second was a shaggy, dark bay, splashed with a twisted blaze down his face. His compact body and lithe legs hid an astonishing agility and sprint. The head horseman seemed obscurely pleased by Kyminn's choices.

"Your bay there, he's hill stock. He'll do you very well in rough country. The grey," he smiled, "That one everyone passes by because he's not so handsome. But he's Ashkevron bred, and he's good blood. Aye, they'll do you well."

Kyminn thanked Keren and the groom profusely, noting with alarm that he could just hear the Collegium bells.

"I have to go!" he almost squeaked it. "I'm supposed to report to armsmaster Dethor right now!" The notion of appearing tardy to his first, formal class with Dethor didn't bear considering.

"Go," Keren flipped a hand at him. "I'll arrange to get these fellows moved to the palace stables and I'll make sure Dethor knows why you're late. But run."

Kyminn gaped a bit that the Herald would go out of her way to take on such a chore for him, a mere trainee. Clearly, whatever Talamir had told Keren had convinced her that this project was worth her time and attention. He didn't stop to ponder further, merely gabbled another round of thanks and ran off as fast as his stiffening legs allowed.

Every head in the salle turned in surprise as Kyminn careened, gasping, through the door. The heads whipped back as Dethor pinned a gimlet eye on his newest, tardiest pupil. The assorted students returned to their drills with renewed vigor, studiously ignoring the drama in the doorway.

"So. Late." The faintest of narrowed eyes warned Kyminn that Dethor knew very well why he was late, and that for reasons of his own, Dethor did not want to be publicly forgiving. "You may be a senior student here, but you are here by my leave. You will respect my time, always. Clear?"

Kyminn simply nodded. It felt unjust, but part of him recognized that this was also a test of his discretion and attitude. Life was not always fair.

"Good. Let's see if we can't sweat some sense into you then." Dethor set him a series of strengthening and stretching exercises that, while vigorous and tiring, also served to work the kinks out of the muscles that were still protesting the time spent in the saddle. Kyminn buried an internal smile when he realized what Dethor had done.

By the time the supper bell rang, Kyminn was wrung out. His gazed brushed Dethor's as he joined the throng fastening cloaks and boots. Dethor was impassive and Kyminn simply let the look slide past, not acknowledging or complaining.

As the door closed behind him, Dethor murmured softly, "Tannel's right. He _is_ smart."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"Kyminn? They told me I'd find you in here. What the blazes are you doing up at this time of night?" Randen's distinctive heavy limp grew louder as he entered the Healer's reference library. The Herald generally used crutches – or Derris – to move about the grounds. But for times that he had to do a lot of walking within the walls, he resorted to a heavy contraption of wood and leather in place of his missing leg. From the weariness in his voice and the drag in his step, he'd been on his feet a lot that day.

Kyminn didn't respond and continued leafing through the book in front of him. He freed one hand to dig among the stack of books and papers strewn about and fished something out, pushing it across the table to Randen.

Randen lowered himself into a chair with a tired sigh and scanned the page. "Another Foresight?" The description was brief:

 _Sometime within the next moon (definite), within the next fortnight (highly probable)_

 _Fire._

 _A wooden structure. Small. Smell of fowl._

Beneath the words, a sketch of a tall, woody plant.

"I don't get it," Randen confessed. "I thought your Foresights always included an animal actor. I don't see one on here."

Kyminn finally broke his attention away from the book. Wordlessly, he pulled back the page and, dipping his pen in the ink, added four additional words:

 _A Companion_

 _Male_

 _Unknown_

Randen tried not to flinch at the chill that went through him. "Unknown? What does that mean?"

"It means that either I've met him, but didn't see enough to identify him, or that I've never met him before. I have no idea who it might be." Frustrated.

"I see. And all this?" Randen gestured at the mess spread out around them.

Kyminn tapped the picture of the plant. "This. I've never seen it before. When Mother and Grandmother started teaching me Healing, they made sure I knew as many kinds of plants as possible, not just healing herbs. Some plants are dangerous, or are perfectly fine by themselves, but can change how a medicinal herb functions. However, there are still several thousand kinds of plants I don't know. Hence…this…" A nod at the mess.

"That's a pretty tall order, Kym." Randen was dubious.

"I know. But I saw this plant clearly, and I think it will help tell me _where_. I've been able to narrow it down quite a bit. It was growing in dry, sandy soil." Kyminn cleared an area and carefully lifted a very large book into the cleared space. He handled the tome gently, respectfully.

"This book grew from notes created by a Healer several generations ago. They think it dates from around the founding of the Collegia. His name was Bear and he was a highly regarded herb healer in his day. His notes included details and rough maps about where each plant can be found in the wild. This book grew from those notes."

The book was a massive collection of maps, interleafed with lists of plants and trees. Randen, at Kyminn's nod, carefully browsed through the pages.

"These remind me of the map books we use to teach geography. But I've never seen maps quite like these." Randen examined a page depicting the area to the west of Haven. The normal lines of elevation were overlaid by coloured bands in browns and tans.

"They are closely related," Kyminn confirmed. "These show climate, temperature, soil type, and rainfall patterns. Information gathered from Healers, Heralds and Guard units over decades. A hill may have one kind of plant on the windward type, but a completely different sort of growth and soil on the lee side." Kyminn leafed back to a large map of Valdemar, tracing his finger over bands of pale yellow. "These are areas of generally dry and sandy soils, areas with low rainfall. Unfortunately, there's a lot more of those then you'd think." The last was tired.

Randen tried not to think about the fact that midnight was behind them and reached for a book. "Alright, what are we looking for again?"

"Not that pile, I've done those. I'm concentrating on the south and east. Those are areas that I'm least familiar with and are more likely to have the kinds of climate we're looking for." Kyminn flipped open one of the books and showed the Herald the table of contents. "Healers describe plants in very specific ways according to size, leaf shape, leaf pattern and so on." He scrawled some notes on a scrap of paper. "These are the terms you need to look for in the description. That will help you eliminate most of these."

"I didn't need sleep anyway." Randen moved the lamp closer and started leafing through the pages.

"Kyminn? I think I might have it." Randen was unsurprised to see how far the time candle had burned.

Kyminn carefully looked at the page in question, comparing it to his sketch and his memory. Finally, he nodded. "That's it alright. Well done Randen. Thank you."

"Now what? Still no idea which Companion is involved?" A rub of his weary eyes and Randen started stacking the books.

"Sorry, no. I am almost certain it's no one I've met though. Not much help, I've only met a couple dozen Companions." Kyminn carefully added the information to the Foresight record:

 _Torchwood (variant – Shrewnose Tree) – unusual, confined to dry slopes_

 _Resinous tree_

 _Zone – may appear singly or in clumps on or near southern border. Presumed to be more prolific further south._

"Derris will pass this through the Companions and I'll make sure this gets to the Circle. You go to bed. You've got a whole three marks before first bell."

Kyminn didn't argue.

X X X

 _In the far distance, a lone, unencumbered Companion adjusted his course, his stride lengthening. Sometime in the night, he crossed the southern border and carried on, deeper into Karse._

X X X

"KYMINN!" The voice cracked over the training ring. Equitation as a first class was better than weapons if you were an overtired student, but not by much.

Kyminn pulled Vik up, the shaggy bay more than willing to take a rest. Kyminn found he was actually tired of people yelling his name and tried to bury the yawn that crept out. Why not just a pleasant "Hey there!" instead?

Keren gestured for him to come closer and dismount. Beside her, Dantris snorted in…disapproval?

Kyminn silently slid to the ground, Vik's reins clasped loosely in one hand.

"You look like something the dog brought home. And you ride like you're hung over. What's going on?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped abruptly when Keren threw up her hand. A brief 'listening' moment followed and the Herald's demeanor softened a bit.

"Dantris just told me. A Foresight involving a Companion?" At his nod, she chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Well, while there certainly may be times that you end up riding exhausted, I can't see it being something your job is generally going to require. In the state you're in, you're more liable to get hurt than learn anything useful." She jerked her chin at Vik, "Walk with me, we'll cool him out."

Kyminn was too tired to argue. They made their way slowly around the training pen, Dantris pacing silently at his Chosen's shoulder.

"Kyminn, Dantris brought up something interesting this morning." She looked thoughtfully over at the young Healer. "You're not a Herald."

"Thank Havens," he muttered, too tired to be tactful. The previous nights' labours had only been the latest in days that started before dawn and ended far past nightfall.

"So Dantris tells me," dryly. "Which begs the question – if you're not a Herald, and you don't want to be one, why…all this?" It took in Vik, his blue uniform, his fatigue. "Presumably you agreed to this, at some point or another."

"I think I did. I seem to remember agreeing to something, at some point," a rueful snort. Then, more seriously, "I had a lot of misgivings about coming to Haven. Have Dantris ask Jareth and Derris about it sometime. Frankly, I didn't see the point, didn't see any benefit and was perfectly happy where I was."

"So what happened?"

"To be honest, I've got no idea. At some point, I suppose that I changed. I do know that it started when Jareth pointed out that I might be doing myself – and others – a disservice if I didn't master my Gifts and make sure I was a properly trained Healer. That was a good enough reason to get me to Haven at any rate."

"And now?" Keren idly scratched Dantris under the chin, an attention he seemed to consider his due.

"And now…Healers wasn't what I expected it to be. For one thing, it was better; more open, more accepting. I learned a lot even though I was only officially enrolled for a short time. I admit, it was gratifying to know that my skills were up to standard. I don't think you'd understand that, because you're a Herald."

Keren's ironic look invited him to explain himself.

"Heralds train Heralds. I've learned it wasn't always done quite the way you do it now, but it's always been like that. Heralds _always_ come here for training, and anyway, you've _always_ got a Companion looking over your shoulder. Healers, well, yes, most Healers are trained here and that's encouraged. It makes sure everyone's training is complete. But it's not _required_. Some Healers never come to Haven, and – by and large – that's accepted. My mother never came to Haven and she's certainly a fully trained Healer."

"I'm not sure I'm explaining it well," Kyminn stopped to face Keren. "My training was two generations removed from Haven. It was certainly very thorough, but Grandmother's training was decades ago. Has anything changed in that time? Did something get overlooked? Watered down?" He made a weak, uncharacteristically uncertain gesture. " _I_ wasn't sure I was fully, properly trained. Once I realized that, then I realized that I needed to be here."

Keren nodded. "Never really considered that. Our Companions, busybodies that they are, generally tell us quickly enough if they think there's something we need to know." That was acerbic. Dantris looked smug.

Keren indicated they should resume walking. "That gets you to Healers, it doesn't get you _here_ though."

A sigh. "Believe me Herald, there have been a lot of mornings lately that I've asked myself the same thing. All of this is certainly not what I expected, and yet it feels like it's what I'm meant to do. Dantris told you about my Foresight," at the Herald's nod he continued, "Ever since I've started getting ready for this…project of Herald Talamir's, there has been a lessening of the…pressure I guess is the best way to describe it. My Foresight isn't pushing me to do something. There's less pressure on my shields. It's…hard to explain."

"And yet we don't usually send Healers into situations like this," Keren pointed out. "Generally speaking, Heralds and our 'shoot-me-now' uniforms do the bulk of the risky stuff and you folks clean up the mess. You seem to be reversing that trend."

"That thought has occurred to me." His tone was tart. "And I have no more desire to be a human pincushion than the next fellow. I think it's pretty safe to say that I have a far, far better appreciation of how very many ways the human body can get mangled than many new Heraldic Trainees. Randen's leg wasn't the first limb I've removed." The last was bleak. "Believe me Herald, my eyes are wide open. I have every intention of staying in the background and letting the Heralds do all the heavy lifting, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to accept the risks."

He dug in his heels, forcing her to stop. His voice was almost angry. "Why is it so very surprising to Heralds that others, with different Gifts, care as much about Valdemar as they do? That we are willing to serve, are willing to risk? Tell me that if I spend my days with the army, Healing wounded men and beasts, selecting, training, and using my Mindspeech to turn out the best possible mounts, tell me that that that's not valuable, not the most possible good? I get to choose, Herald Keren. _I_ do. And this is the life I choose." He blinked a bit, as though he had surprised even himself with his vehemence.

"Enough." She sighed. "Enough. I had to ask. There were…rumblings…that we had stampeded you into this project, that no one had even asked you if you were willing. Clearly you…" she broke off at Kyminn's expression. "What…?"

Kyminn shook his head, Vik's reins dropping from nerveless fingers. His eyes unfocused. "No…no…tell her no…not that alley, not now….fire…it's going to burn…"

Keren didn't touch him, although her fingers itched with the desire to shake him into articulate speech.

"Where Kyminn? Where are you?"

"Warehouse. On fire. But not the danger, not there. Nearby, in the dark. The Companion can't go there, there's too much fire…" his voice trailed off as he tried to verbalize the images.

"Dantris is telling the others. He says there's a fire in the rope works. They're moving the pitch barrels now, it's alright, they got the warning in time." Keren was steady, grounding.

"No!" He shook his head frantically. "More fire!"

The ground shook, or maybe it was in his imagination, yet he fell to his knees, trying to gabble out his warning. A searing shock of anguish. Silence.

This time, the earthshake was real, peals of the explosion echoing across the city. Keren was already on Dantris' back, flying for the fence before the echoes faded.

In the distance, a bell began to ring, a somber peal that drove all joy before it. Kyminn didn't need to be told what it meant. He knew. He'd known the Companion was going to die. He'd felt the loss score his soul even before the first peal of the Death Bell.

 _SCENE BREAK_

He didn't remember climbing back on Vik and taking him into the city. He barely remembered the remainder of the day, tending burned and shattered bodies, relieving suffering of both human and animal patients. He didn't remember dozing off in the temple forecourt they'd taken over to manage the injured.

"Kyminn," the voice was rough, raw. "Kyminn." A hand shook his shoulder gently.

"I'm here. Who's next?" He blinked his bleary eyes and tried to climb to his feet. The hand on his should pressed him back down again.

"There's no one else. They've found all the injured. It's time to go back to Healers." Randen was splashed with mud and ash, the hems of his sleeves an ominous darker rust brown.

"Are they sure? There might be others…in the rubble…" Kyminn looked down the street at the smoking pile of stone that had once been a warehouse. A few nearby buildings leaned precariously and everything in sight was cracked or fire damaged in some way.

"They're sure. They called in Healers and Mindspeakers. If there was anyone alive, they'd know." Randen squeezed his shoulder in emphasis. "They're sure."

Kyminn nodded and let Randen help him to his feet. "Randen….I couldn't stop it. I tried, but my Foresight just wasn't enough. I'm sorry!" It was a choked wail.

"Shush! No, Kyminn! You're wrong! You did save them!" Randen gave him a little shake.

"But…there was a bell…and I felt it Randen, I FELT it!" Kyminn pleaded, searching Randen's face for understanding.

Bleak grief washed into Randen's face and settled there, etching lines of pain. "There was a fire Kyminn, at the rope walk. They moved the pitch barrels out and did their best to fight the fire. There were a lot of people saved." He hesitated, then stumbled on. "The building beside it…the owner was shipping lamp oil. By law, he should have stored them in a stone warehouse, with proper signs, but he didn't want to pay the extra silver. We also suspect the kegs weren't very good. The lamp oil fumes exploded. That's what you saw."

"I tried to tell them the Companion shouldn't go down the alley," it was miserable.

"She didn't Kyminn, she got the warning. She was trying to make sure the area was clear and when she got the warning, they didn't go down that alley. You saved them Kyminn, you did!"

"But…I felt them die!" Kyminn searched the Herald's face.

Randen sagged, "You did. There were two Heralds, Kyminn. Two Companions. Coming from two different parts of the city, they both responded to the fire. You saved one of the pairs. The Herald and her Companion. The other pair…" Tears streamed down Randen's cheeks. "The others Kyminn…were Jannen and Niko."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

 _A/N Sorry about the longer than expected delay. On the plus side, I got to pick up "Closer to the Heart" and read through it. Helped flesh out a bit more! Valdemar has had moveable type since Mags' time. Yay!_

 _GRIEF_.

By the time he got back to his room, Kyminn was sure he was too numb to feel anything beyond a soul-draining exhaustion. In spite of that, he was unable to stifle the muted groan of pain that boiled past his lips when he saw the letter propped conspicuously against his lamp.

He wasn't sure if it was the fatigue or the sorrow that made his hands shake so, blurring the words and making them hard to read.

 _Healer Kyminn,_

 _Both the Heraldic and Healer Circles thank you for the service you offered today. If you are not already aware, know that your warning – and your work with the injured – helped save many lives today. The work of Healers and Heralds is such that it is easy for one's efforts to seem overlooked, or as though one's efforts were for naught. Know that this is not the case._

 _You should know that the injured have been distributed to Temples and Healer's Halls throughout Haven so that no one location is overburdened. Although we at the Healer's Hall have received several of the injured, rest assured that we are well staffed for their care. In light of the many other demands upon your time, do not feel that you must place yourself at our service._

 _Finally, given the events of today, your classes for tomorrow have been cancelled with the exceptions of your afternoon classes with Heralds Dethor and Keren._

 _Regards_

The note was signed by the Dean of Healers and Herald Talamir.

Too tired to parse whether he should be happy or hurt that his services were not required, Kyminn let the note slip from his fingers, and pausing only long enough to divest himself of his smoky and stinking uniform, crawled into bed.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Kyminn was at the stables well before his scheduled class with Herald Keren. The day before, poor Vik had been taken from an equitation class into the heart of the city and thence handed off to a complete stranger. Kyminn hadn't even been aware that a Guardsman had been detailed to make sure the beasts of those attending the disaster had been seen to. Kyminn felt a profound guilt that he had forgotten his horse during the crush of events.

To make matters worse in his mind, on returning to the stables, Kyminn hadn't even argued with the groom who had, deferentially but firmly, stated that the stable hands had been instructed to "Care for the beasts of those who had been down in the city as though they were the King's own Companion hisself," simply handing off his horse yet again in favor of his own needs.

Kyminn was reassuring himself by touch and by Gift that Vik had taken no harm from Kyminn's dereliction. The voice, pitched loud enough to break his concentration yet not so loud to concern a horse, broke into his inspection.

"Well sir? Does he meet with your satisfaction?"

Kyminn gave the senior groom a brief, grateful nod. "Very much so Tem. Thank you and my apologies." He ran a hand down Vik's neck, feeling the horse relax under the familiar touch.

"T'was nothing sir. He was a bit off once't you'd left – you have that way of making any beast feel easy. But we gave him a good wash down and rub, and once we got the stink of smoke out of his nostrils he settled quick enough."

A grimace. "I should have been here. I should have seen to him. It's my responsibility."

"Sir, we'd had our orders from a fair bit higher on the hill, if you take my meaning. We were told clearly that those that work for the crown and city might not always be in a fit state to do all for themselves. To help those folks, well, there's pride for us in that service sir. It's not a taking advantage sir, it's letting us do what we're here for. You ken?"

Kyminn wrestled with that for a few minutes. Part of him felt that, fatigue and crises aside, he should have done more. The rest of him recognized just how poor shape he'd been in the night before, and how, with his energy drained and his mind numb, how he might well have missed something. What if he had, say, let Vik drink to foundering because he, Kyminn, was too tired to notice? Wasn't it better, that corner of his mind argued, to realize when to let someone better equipped take over a situation?

As he slowly stroked Vik's neck, Kyminn realized that had the emergency happened in the wilderness, he would have done essentially the same thing – ground-tied Vik somewhere safe and then dealt with what was in front. In yesterday's case, it had been shoving Vik's reins at the nearest shape in Guard blue and shouting "I'm a Healer!" before pushing into the melee.

The problem, Kyminn realized, was one of nuance. It wasn't so much a case of his making a poor decision, as that he had done so without recognizing that there was one to make. Clearly, he needed to take that extra moment and think, rather than surrendering to the situation. He was lucky this lesson had not been profoundly more painful.

Kyminn sighed. "Thank you Tem, I think I do understand. And please thank all the other stable hands for the good care they gave Vik and all the others yesterday. We really couldn't manage without you, you know."

Tem's smile was bashful. "I thank 'ee sir, and I'll be sure to pass it on. Nah then, will you be wanted Max today then?"

His first true smile of the day, "Yes, but I can take care of it, thank you."

 _SCENE BREAK_

 _SORROW._

Kyminn's brief flash of ease vanished as soon as he saw Herald Keren. Dantris' unwontedly dim coat and his Herald's closed expression brought home Jannen and Niko's deaths like a fist to the heart. Herald Keren was always an exacting taskmistress, but today there was an extra, painful wall of distance between Heralds and those around them.

Kyminn impulsively accorded her a profound bow of respect and acknowledgement, saying only, "Herald Keren, with your permission I'd like to run Max through the advanced exercises and then report to you for a critique. Is that alright?"

Keren nodded, a measure of bleak thanks in her expression. Heralds would do their duty, as always, but some days it was harder than others.

Kyminn worked Max carefully through the course for the allotted two candlemarks. The need to focus on staying linked with his mount and still pay attention to the intricacies of the exercises offered a welcome respite from his thoughts. If the water on his cheeks could be attributed to the wind of Max's passage, so much the better.

His session with the Armsmaster offered an equally welcome opportunity to exhaust his body. To his surprise, Dethor paired Kyminn with Kimel, Dethor's senior training assistant. A bit baffled as to why he – an absolute novice – would be paired with so senior a trainer, Kyminn nonetheless donned the padded training armor and started the drills.

"No. No drills today. Use what you have learned and defend against Kimel. Let's see what you've learned so far."

"Not much," was what Kyminn wanted to say, having had a bare two moons of practice. Knowing he was hopelessly outclassed, he still did his best, striving to execute each move properly. Kimel's attacks were almost negligent, overcoming Kyminn's defenses with embarrassing ease. Finally, Kimel bound Kyminn's blade, knocking it out of his hand in a move that left fingers stinging. At Kimel's nod, Kyminn picked up the blade and dropped into the defensive stance once again.

Over and over the scene repeated itself, Kyminn defended, using his limited repertoire of skill. As the attacks grew more intense, his defense got more desperate as he tried to adapt and shift without resorting to wild flailing and outright flight. Confused, frustrated, sore and angry, he folded it all inward, blocking it all off, leaving only a grounded focus. He was unaware that his teeth were locked in a grim rictus as he tried vainly to defend himself.

"Enough." At Dethor's word, Kimel immediately stepped back, breaking contact with Kyminn. The healer just stood there, exhausted and dazed, slowly coming back to awareness of the salle and his opponent. At a jerk of Dethor's head, Kimel nodded and stepped away, out of earshot. Kyminn eyed Dethor warily, carefully working his muscles to keep them from cramping up.

"A Herald died yesterday. So did his Companion." Dethor's words were quiet, for Kyminn alone.

"Yes sir." Kyminn wasn't sure what else to answer, how much it would seem like he was intruding on the Heralds' loss. He wanted to scream it, but instead concentrated on meeting Dethor's gaze.

"You knew him, I understand."

"Yes Armsmaster. Jannen and Niko were…friends of mine." He tried to keep his voice level, to match Dethor's.

"The pain of loss…it breaks some people. Makes them angry, stupid." Dethor nodded at the training blade in Kyminn's hand.

In a flash, Kyminn understood. This hadn't been – solely – an arms lesson. Dethor had used Kimel to remind Kyminn that the world did not, and would never, fight fair. That it would not pull its blows, even when one most wanted it to.

"Yes Armsmaster." Kyminn paused, wondering if he this had been a test, and if so, had he passed? Realizing that Dethor would refuse to answer either way, Kyminn simply added, "I'll return tomorrow then? I still have a lot to learn."

At Dethor's silent nod, Kyminn offered him a respectful bow and quietly departed.

 _SCENE BREAK_

 _LOSS AND PASSAGES_

A familiar thud-step and Randen's voice. "So this is where you've been hiding!"

Kyminn didn't look up from the book he was reading on cavalry tactics. "Since you had no trouble finding me, I clearly wasn't hiding," it was calm and a touch distant.

"I didn't look for you. I asked Derris where you were." Randen swung a satchel off his shoulder and placed it gently on the table beside Kyminn. Inside, something clinked faintly.

Kyminn looked up in surprise at his words. "You asked Derris?" He knew enough by now to know that although it was quite common for Heralds to have their Companions find other Heralds, it was _highly_ unusual for a Companion to look for someone who was not a Herald.

Randen swung into the chair opposite Kyminn. The Healer's reference library had, for whatever reason, never become a gathering place for any except the occasional very dedicated scholars. It was not surprising that the two of them were alone in the silent space.

"Derris reminded me that Jannen was your friend too," Randen said simply.

"I thought…you'd want to spend your time with other Heralds right now," Kyminn admitted.

"I did, and I will again. And you're right, we don't tend to have a lot of friends outside the Circle. But that doesn't mean we don't, and it doesn't mean our friends don't get to grieve."

"I…thank you." Kyminn's throat was suddenly tight. "I didn't want to overstep."

"I know. And I'm glad Derris reminded me." Randen reached into the bag and pulled out a clear bottle and two heavy glass goblets. The Herald poured a generous serving into each of the vessels.

"What is this?" Kyminn eyed the dark amber liquid. It gave off a heady, fruity aroma.

"Double distilled pear and honey wine." Randen gave Kyminn a lopsided grin.

"Um. Speaking as your Healer, you do know that I should caution you against relying on spirits at a time like this, right?" Kyminn lobbed it out, more to see what Randen would say than in any real expectation that his words would have any effect.

"And if we were relying on spirits to drown our sorrows and manage our pain, you would be quite correct. However, that is not what we are doing. You see," and the lopsided smile reasserted itself, "Jannen had a singular ability to find hidden, undervalued treasures. Clothes, leather goods and," a gesture at the bottle, "fine vintages. He bequeathed me his collection of vintages. So we are going to enjoy this one, and reminisce, and grieve our friend."

"Well, in that case…" Kyminn held up the glass in salute. "Jannen and Niko. Gone, missed, not forgotten. To absent friends."

"Absent friends."


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

As the winter progressed, so it seemed did the pace of Kyminn's work. A few days after the deaths of Jannen and Niko, he was joined in his equitation sessions by Captain Ashkevron. Although the bone healers had completed the repair of her smashed legs, she was still working to regain the strength she had lost. In public, she made a point of moving slowly, relying on the aid of her two canes. In the privacy of the indoor riding salle, the canes returned to being mere stage props.

Kyminn was working Max, the large grey gelding when the Captain first appeared. At Keren's wave, Kyminn spun Max and trotted over. He didn't hear what the Captain said to Keren, but they both burst into peals of laughter. Kyminn merely raised an eyebrow, politely waiting for them to explain the joke.

The cavalry officer was shaking her head, eyeing the gelding with a twisted smile. "Dear gods. It's the Shin'a'in stud all over again! Please tell me that he's at least go a decent temperament!" She looked to Kyminn for permission and, at his nod, walked slowly around the gelding, examining him minutely.

"Ah…Shin'a'in stud?" Kyminn sounded as baffled as he felt.

"It's an old story. Some of the Heralds have heard it, since it partly has to do with Herald Vanyel Ashkevron." Keren's grin was wicked.

Nikki Ashkevron snorted, but yielded to Kyminn's curiosity. "Back in Vanyel's time, one of his brothers spent a tremendous amount of money buying a stallion, allegedly of pure or nearly pure Shin'a'in breeding." At Kyminn's expression, she gave a nod of agreement. "Exactly. The odds of a pure-blood Shin'a'in stallion being found for sale _anywhere_ is…about as likely as there ever being a piebald Companion."

Dantris' emphatic snort of derision underscored her point. Both of them.

"As far as most of the family was concerned, he had been gulled, and in the most embarrassing way possible – falling for such an obviously faked pedigree. To make matters worse, the beast was ugly, stupid and almost unmanageably vicious. The whole episode caused a tremendous uproar in the family – even Vanyel got drawn in."

"What happened?" Kyminn leaned forward, keen on hearing the outcome.

Nikki sighed. "Well, it turned out that it was actually a very wise purchase. The stud was savage and stupid, but he was strong and aggressive – just the right traits for a warhorse. They started breeding him to the draft horse mares and then back through the hunter line. He ended up being the foundation stallion for what is now the Ashkevron war horse line. This fellow here," she nodded her chin at the gelding, "Is an almost perfect image of the original 'Shin'a'in' stud."

Kyminn looked at his horse, surprise and a newfound respect in his eyes. "I knew he was of Ashkevron breeding, but I hadn't realized his pedigree was quite so illustrious."

The Captain shrugged. "We sell quite a few horses to the crown each year. We keep back enough blood stock of course, but we don't short the crown. That would be just a bit shortsighted, in any number of ways, don't you think?"

"Well Captain, I for one am certainly glad your family takes such care with the beasts they provide. I couldn't ask for a better mount than Max here. And as for temperament, you'll be happy to know that Max does _not_ match his breeding in that regard." He grinned and gave Max a proprietary pat on the neck.

"Good enough," Keren broke in. "Now that we're all agreed Max is a fine horse, let's see if you both know how to work, shall we?"

 _SCENE BREAK_

Equitation. Weapons training. Tactics training. Drills. Shifts at Healer's. The work piled higher as the days dwindled. Not even their evenings were sacrosanct, usually being spent with Talamir, Dethor or both in polishing their roles as agents. If Kyminn had had any energy left to spend on reflection, he would probably have been surprised to find himself in such unusual company. Had anyone told him a year ago he would be drilled to exhaustion in maps, ciphers and other esoteric skills by two of the highest ranked Heralds in the kingdom, he would probably have tucked them in to sleep it off.

"No Allek, remember that we are trying to keep your fictional personas as close to the real ones as possible. Not only do we not have the time to build anything deeper, we don't have the time to teach you all you'd need to know. In your case, your story is exactly true, up until the point Jareth Chose you. Your stories about training, snow-clearing – even the barracks room jokes are all authentic, so use them. They will ring true because they ARE true. Use that to your advantage. Kyminn…"

Kyminn straightened with a start. He'd let his mind wander there for a bit and he wondered if he'd missed something.

"We've been thinking, and discussing the matter with Evin, your gift teacher. We're still not quite sure what to do about your Foresight."

"Um. Yes." Kyminn sighed. "We've tried to shield against it, and it turns out that if we pile enough shields on me we can actually block it. Unfortunately, it takes all of my energy and the help of at least one other person to keep enough shields up. I wouldn't be able to do much else, I'm afraid."

"And frankly," Talamir was sober, "we're not yet sure if trying to shield it is a good idea. It's my understanding that, under normal conditions, you only get fairly serious events now?"

Kyminn nodded with a grimace. "Generally, yes. If I'm in the city I have to be a lot more careful, but I can manage. I can't block some things…like the fire," he faltered for a moment, "but less intense things, like small acts of cruelty I can block out."

"It comes down to two choices really," Talamir sighed. "Either Evin and Crathach block your gift – not permanently, but enough that it would take a Mind-Healer to restore it – or we leave it. That means accommodating it within your persona."

"You mean," Randen interjected, with a sideways look at Kyminn, "That Kyminn becomes 'that fella that has fits and talks to himself sometimes'? "

Talamir nodded. "Exactly. As a Healer, Kyminn, you know that not all fits involve falling down and thrashing about. Some mind storms are much milder and involve simply being 'not present', or even saying odd things out of turn."

"I'd really rather not have my gift blocked," Kyminn said slowly. "I admit it can be awkward, but I can't deny it's been damn useful too. I'd really like to have…access…to any warnings if we can." His expression grew thoughtful. "You know; we might be able to turn this to our advantage. If I act a bit…slow…and maybe talk to myself a bit, people might not heed what they say around me so much."

"Well, I always knew you were a bit daft, cousin," Allek broke in with a cheeky grin. "And it's only natural that I'd take care of my cousin now isn't it? Helping you find a job with the horse brokers and all. I mean, he may be a bit addled from time to time, but my cousin, well, he's a first rate horse leech. Got a natural knack for it and all. So he talks to himself a bit, he's sure a good worker and we're lucky to have him with us."

Talamir and Dethor were both nodding in pleased agreement. "Excellent," said Dethor. "Now then, let's work that into your back stories, shall we…?"

 _SCENE BREAK_

Winter had grudgingly given way to spring and spring was finally yielding up conditions suitable for their trip. Even engrossed as they were in last minute preparations for their trip, the foursome heard the news that raced through the Collegia like wildfire.

"A _Karsite_ Herald?" Nikki's voice was thick with disbelief. "A Companion Chose someone from _Karse_? What could he have been thinking?"

"That he'd make a good Herald, I expect." Randen's tone was tart.

"I know you Heralds trust your Companions, and gods know I've seen enough to know they can be trusted, but…still…you have to admit that it's odd, even for a Companion."

Randen nodded, "I'll grant you that it's…unexpected. I'd even go so far as to say 'wildly unlikely'. And I know you've worked the southern border and have no great reason to like the Karsites, but Kantor Chose this Alberich person, and we trust Kantor."

"I've seen the Sunsguard and their priests do…things…that make me vomit." Nikki's voice was bleak. "And much as my head tells me that just as our Guard is made up of individuals that theirs must be also…my gut is telling me this person can only be an enemy." Captain Ashkevron, currently simply 'Nikki Forster' was profoundly uneasy. "Still…a Companion. I really can't see that I'll never warm to the person, this Alberich, but I'll accept the judgement of a Companion." A small, unhappy shrug. "That's all I can promise for now."

Randen sighed. "I suspect you're not alone in that. I think there's more than a few people doing some soul searching right now where their feelings about Karsites is concerned."

"We're leaving tomorrow anyway," Kyminn interjected. "By the time we get back in late fall, this person will be yesterday's news and the Collegium will probably just treat him like he's another trainee. We may never encounter him except in passing, and by then he'll be just another Herald."

 _SCENE BREAK_

Their departure was without fanfare as they slipped away shortly after dawn. They had decided to eat on the road in order to avoid the morning press. In their favor was that more people tended to _enter_ the city in the morning rather than leave, but there was still a significant amount of crowding as people took advantage of the spring roads.

Randen and Allek were both riding this morning, it having been decided there was no point in trying to pretend Derris and Jareth weren't Companions when people could see them leaving the palace grounds. Once outside the city, they would either be "tied" to the back of the wagon, ridden as "horses" or, once away from the settled areas, moving unseen through the woods. Kyminn was driving the wagon at present, his Gifts giving him by far the best control over the team in the chaos of the city streets. Max and Vik trailed the wagon, tethered by both rope and Kyminn's Animal Mindspeech.

Beside Max and Vik trotted a grey mare. In colour she was Max's twin, but where he was blocky and solid, she was contained power and an impatient temper. Raina was Nikki's remount, biding her time until it was her turn under the saddle. The Captain was currently riding her favorite horse, an animal of her own breeding. Only her ranks; military and court, along with her control over Hugo, let her retain the right to maintain an unaltered stallion as her personal warhorse.

As a warhorse, Hugo was eye-catching. Standing a full 18 hands high, he was as tall as many draft horses. In conformation though, he had the build of a rangy hunter. It was easy to mistake him for any normal saddle beast, until one got close enough to realize he was simply built on a scale all his own. Four perfectly matched white socks marched up his legs, stark against the glossy black of his coat. Even his blaze was perfect, as though drawn by an artisan from nostril to forehead. Only a swipe of white, a smudge of the artist's thumb from the blaze and arching over one eye, ruined the perfect effect. Personally, Kyminn thought the streak of white made Hugo look perpetually surprised, but he thought it best not to say anything.

As they finally passed the gates and moved onto the southern road, Derris brought Randen alongside the wagon. "Taver has just spoken to Derris. There's an estate just south of here that Talamir would like us to stop at. He says there's something we're to pick up there that may help. Taver has given Derris the directions."

The other three exchanged glances, but all shrugged in acknowledgement. Clearly Talamir hadn't wanted the material to be obtained from the palace, where it was open to discussion by anyone who chanced by.

When they reached the estate a few candlemarks later, Talamir's reason became clear. Lord Balvel was equal parts polite and firm.

"Herald Talamir didn't say as to why you'd be needing a pair of trained guard mastiffs and a herding dog, nor did I ask. He simply asked me if I might have some available and that you'd have someone who could manage them." He very carefully avoided meeting anyone's eye as he said this. "Herald Talamir and I have an understanding, of sorts. From time to time he asks me things and I most carefully do not ask him questions in return. Therefore, take these beasts with my blessing, along with two casks of dried horsemeat for food." He gave a decisive nod, this time locking his gaze on Randen.

"Will that be all Herald?"

Randen gave a faint smile and silent nod of acknowledgement. "Thank you Lord Balvel, but no. I'm very glad to be able to help Herald Talamir with his errand – whatever it might be. I've no doubt Herald Talamir will let you know if he has any more…requests."

Normally, the process of getting a trained guard dog to accept a new handler would have been a time consuming process – time they didn't have. Between Lord Balvel's trainer and Kyminn's gifts, the process took less than a mark, although Kyminn admitted he was going to have to spend a good deal of time with the dogs to fully establish the bond.

In astonishingly short order, they were on their way again. All mounts had been watered and had a chance to graze, in spite of the fact they'd only just begun. It went without saying that any chance to rest and make sure the horses and Companions were in tip top shape was not to be squandered. The dogs were on the bench seat with Kyminn, the physical contact strengthening the trace of contact he was maintaining on their minds. A servant had delivered a large basket of pocket pies, cheese, fruit and other suitable road food. The sun was still two marks off of noon when they turned south yet again.

"How much do you really think he knew?" Kyminn asked Nikki. Hugo's height made it that from his seat on the wagon, he still had to look up at the captain.

She shrugged. "At a guess? I'd say everything. I know for a fact there are agents all over Valdemar, both ours and our enemies. It wouldn't surprise me at all to learn that he's one of them. Similarly, it may be exactly as he says – he chooses not to know. That way, he can say under Truth Spell, that he doesn't know what Talamir's up to."

Kyminn chewed on that for a bit. The blue and grey herding dog curled up under the bench, warm breath blowing on Kyminn's feet. "He's probably better off knowing. He doesn't need protection from Heralds after all. If he were to be Truth Spelled, as soon as the Herald realized that Lord Balvel was acting on Talamir's instructions, that would be the end of the matter, Lord Balvel is protected. If it was someone else, well, they probably _wouldn't_ believe him if he said he didn't know. And without the Truth Spell, they might use pretty nasty things against the Lord or his family to find out. If Lord Balvel does know, then he knows what the risk could be, and can take steps to protect himself."

Nikki's grin was sardonic. "Like I said, I'm quite sure he knows. And, I'm equally sure that he doesn't want that fact known publicly." She looked sideways down at Kyminn. "Second thoughts?"

"No." It was instant. "It's just a whole new way of thinking, of trying to look at all sides of things. These aren't the kinds of risks I'm used to assessing and I need to learn before I do something stupid."

"I think we will all benefit from no one doing anything stupid." She glanced around at the pastures to either side of the road. "Risk assessment. Are we being observed right now?"

Kyminn closed his eyes and _reached_ , searching for nearby animal minds, testing what they were seeing, what they were feeling. He opened his eyes again. "There's a shepherd just around the bend, about a mile up the road. The sheep can see him. I can't tell if there are human minds nearby, but no animal or bird is currently alarmed about a human in their territory. Neither the dogs nor horses smell anything." He sighed. "But. That doesn't mean that there isn't a person settled down somewhere, so quiet the animals have settled, and downwind of us. If I took more time and had a bird search, I might know more. But I can't know for sure."

She nodded. "And that's a start. Knowing what you don't know. I spent some time as a cavalry scout, so let me teach you a few tricks…"


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Kyminn dug his fork into his dinner and settled into the warmth of their wagon. This wasn't the same wagon that he and Randen had driven the fall before, although it was built on the same model. He was rather glad it wasn't the same one, this one held no memories.

Like its counterpart, the wagon had high axles and was designed for use on less-travelled roads. This particular wagon included a clever sliding frame that extended over the front bench. The bench, in turn, folded flat to create an extra bed, its mattress stored in a bench beneath the seat. With the back half of the wagon being wooden framed instead of canvas, there was room for a small loft as well as two folding bunks. No one had a great deal of room, but each had his or her own bed.

"This is good Allek, what do you call it?" Randen was clearly enjoying dinner as much as Kyminn was.

"Hunter's pie," Allek replied. "I used yesterday's left over stew and a few of the root vegetables."

"I've had hunter's pie many times before, and none of them tasted like this. I think you even made the turnips taste good, and I've never been a fan of turnips." Nikki paused to savor another bite.

Allek gave a small smile. "Drizzled them with honey and pepper before I roasted them. Then I mashed them in with the potatoes and some spring onions before I used them for the top crust. It takes away that funny funk everyone seems to hate."

"I vote we use Allek's recipe the next time we cook turnips," Kyminn stated. "Which makes me wonder, where'd you learn to cook them like this? It's not a family recipe."

"Something I picked up during my second year or so with the Guard. There are people from all over Valdemar and there's always someone with a new food from their region, or a new way to solve a problem, or even some new gods I've never heard of." Allek shrugged. "You pick up all kinds of new things."

"He's right," Nikki nodded. "It's one of the reason the Guard posts people so far from home. New recruits always think it's so there's nowhere to go if they get homesick," she grinned, but went on seriously, "but it's to make sure that everyone in the Guard thinks of the people around them as _their people._ If no one ever went more than a few leagues from their home village, it would be easy to not really care about people that are in places they've maybe never heard of – and will certainly never see.

"Once you've spent a season with the fellow in the next bunk who's from the Lake Evendim fisher folk, and the shepherd from the western hills who has never tasted beef, and the merchant's son from down south…well, you don't see just 'our folk' and 'other folk', you just see people. And when you're helping a village rebuild their only bridge after a storm has washed it away, well, they become your folk." Nikki smiled.

Randen took up the conversation. "it's the same way with Heralds. It's one reason field Heralds generally aren't sent back to their own region. It would be easy for the locals to think of him or her as 'our Herald' and think they'd be inclined to favor their district over another. It's equally hard for them to trust that a Herald won't fall prey to the old grudges of village politics." Randen gave a half nod in support of Nikki. "Allek probably won't get back to Oakden for a couple of years at least, if ever. It helps that he's been gone for a while already so folks don't quite consider him a local anymore, but it's something the Circle takes very seriously. Heralds not only have to _BE_ fair, they have to be _SEEN_ to be fair."

"Like not promoting a fellow within the squad and expecting him to still hang about with his old mates. He can't lead if he might seem to have favorites." Allek was clearly familiar with the notion.

"Exactly." Randen agreed. "Which brings up a question, and I hope you don't think its presumptuous Captain, but speaking of how background can form one's perspective…well, you seem to have a…more open perspective than I would have expected from someone with your rank and family."

To everyone's covert relief, the Captain's response was a peal of honest laughter. "Are you asking if it's because I'm of noble birth and don't go about mentioning it with every second breath, or because I'm one of those hide-bound, pig-headed, stubborn-as-stone Ashkevrons?" Her voice gurgled with mirth.

A sheepish smile. "Both, I guess. I encountered your family's court representative once, when I was invited to a meeting focused on issues concerning that region. The gentleman in question was very…certain of his convictions and not shy about sharing them. Robustly."

"You mean he was loud, stubborn and disinclined to listen to reason?" Nikki sighed. "That sounds about right." She paused to sip on her mug of tea. "Our family have been strong supporters of the crown and kingdom since half-past forever. But, being as far from the capital as we are, we don't spend a lot of time at court. We'd have to leave home in mid-winter just to get there for spring. We're not one of those families that can come for 'the season' and then easily pack themselves back home again. When we come, it's because we need to and we don't have a lot of time or energy to waste on small talk or court politics." She held up a hand, "That doesn't mean we're oblivious, it just means we ignore it whenever it's safe to do so." A dry smile. "You'd be surprised how often it's safe to ignore some of that nonsense if you know what you're doing and you ignore the right people."

Kyminn and Allek listened, fascinated. This was an aspect of life in the capital that was completely foreign to them.

"Generally speaking, father sends one of my uncles or cousins as his representative. They tend to stay for about a year, with someone coming about halfway through to update them on how things are going at home. Yes, it means the information is several moons out of date, but that's usually not a tremendous problem. Things don't change quickly up near Forst Reach," she grinned at Randen's snort of understatement, "so it's a long while before a change has any effect anyway."

"So how did you come to join the Guard then?" Kyminn was curious.

"Family tradition," the glint in her eye was downright wicked. "Fortunately, my family has a strong sense of tradition. So, when every generation or so, the family line produces a Bard, or a Herald, or a daughter who doesn't want to spend the rest of her life breeding horses and raising sheep, well…there's a strong family tradition of setting such folk free to find their own way. It's been happening long enough now that it's become a curious tradition, not the near-scandal that it used to be back in Vanyel's time."

It was Allek's turn to nod in understanding. "So that's how you got into the Guard, and with your background, it's logical you'd end up in the cavalry. Is that how you got hurt?" He gestured at her canes, used now only for public appearances of the 'disabled former cavalry trooper.'

"No such luck," she grimaced. "I was posted at the training camp that's three days out of Haven. A bunch of us had some Midwinter leave and decided to do some sightseeing. There was a dramatic ice-falls nearby and we thought we'd take a look. As it turned out, we weren't the only ones with the same idea and there were actually locals who you could hire to take you on a climb of the ice. We were very careful to pick the one with the best gear and one of the fellows in our group had some experience with ice climbing. He vouched that the fellow wasn't just talking through his hat and knew what he was doing.

"But, like anything, there's a risk. It wasn't the guide's fault, nor did the equipment fail. A chunk of ice broke off as we were climbing. We were roped in so we didn't fall all the way, but I was pinned by the falling ice. That's how I broke my legs. I don't remember much aside from falling, pain, someone swearing a lot and waking up a fortnight later at Healers."

The other three winced in sympathy, Randen with grim appreciation for what she had endured. There seemed little to add at that point, so they finished their meal in companionable silence and turned in.

 _SCENE BREAK_

During that first fortnight or so of travel, things settled into a routine. Kyminn, for his part, found it interesting to watch the shifting dynamics of the group emerge as each settled into his or her own niche in the group.

Both Nikki and Randen had joined the group as persons used to wearing the mantle of leader. The city dweller in Randen deferred somewhat to the high born Ashkevron, while the cavalry captain deferred to the Herald – sometimes. Allek, accustomed to the role of subordinate as a Guardsman, was easing his way into his new role as Herald-to-be. As for Kyminn, he was in most ways the undisputed subordinate of the group, aside from the fact that he had the final say in almost all matters concerning animals they were considering purchasing.

It quickly became clear though that Talamir, Jadus and the others had chosen the group with just this situation in mind. The four of them settled into their roles with surprisingly little conflict or misunderstanding. It was understood that in public, Nikki would be the spokesperson of the group, letting her natural leadership abilities come to the fore.

Randen, for his part, found that if he spoke little, people tended to see only his disability and tended to dismiss him. A part of him was deeply angered at the realization that – had he been wearing his whites – the reception would have been completely different and that at present, all people saw was his injury, not the man behind it. It was a profoundly unsettling realization to go from "respected leader" to "overlooked cripple" by dint of whether or not he was wearing his whites. For a time, he spent a lot of time alone with Derris after these encounters, struggling to adjust to this unpalatable reality.

Allek slid easily into his role of "hired hand and bodyguard" at Nikki's right hand. It gave him an opportunity sit in on her encounters and act as a discreet messenger when folks wanted to feel her out before formally approaching her.

Kyminn found he enjoyed the role of "fella what has fits and talks to hisself". It allowed him to sit quietly in a lot of corners and simply absorb the talk that was flowing around him. It also meant that he could be perched on the wagon or a horse, interrogating the local animals and wildlife, his distracted demeanor attributed to his 'fits'.

 _SCENE BREAK_

Within a moon and a bit, the team was making distinct progress. They had purchased nine promising animals for the guard, along with collecting some eclectic bits of information. A trader from Rethwellen had mentioned that mercenary companies were being quietly warned by their guild to actively avoid Karse. That wasn't surprising, since Karse had long since damaged relations with that guild beyond hope of repair. This wasn't, the trader had averred, the usual reminder that the guild would not support or provide bond for any contract with Karse, but rather an active notification to avoid the region altogether, along with a strongly worded 'suggestion' that any company might want to think twice about taking a private guard contract with any noble whose lands bordered Karse or Valdemar.

In spite of the warning, the trader himself was buying up stocks of leather, ostensibly for import back to Rethwellen. Kyminn, however, spent three days in a trance in the back of the wagon, using a crow to follow the trader. That worthy spent only one day on the road towards Rethwellen, before inexplicably bending south, directly for Karse.

That wasn't illegal, a trader was free to trade with whomever he or she pleased, provided he or she wasn't selling stolen or illicit goods and paid all appropriate fees and taxes. The fact that the trader had lied about the destination and was willing to risk trading with Karse argued that there was apparently an oddly strong market in Karse for simple cured leather hides.

Randen shrugged and added the information to the latest coded message going back to Talamir. It was possible that there was a perfectly innocent reason why Karse had a sudden need to buy leather. But since leather was also used for armor, bridles, saddles and a thousand other things an army used…well, it seemed odd that Karse needed quite so much of it.

Outside the wagon, Nikki, Allek and Kyminn were drilling. Every evening, they spent time training both the horses and themselves. They were very careful about these sessions. It was public knowledge that the group was hoping to broker horses for the Guard. The team took great care to make sure anyone thinking about helping themselves to the team's bank roll knew that everyone in the group was more than able with a weapon. Always having one of the mastiffs up beside the driver and growling at anyone who approached didn't hurt either.

That didn't mean they wanted prying eyes and ears to overhear any of their discussions, or be quite aware of how well and how quickly the horses were learning war skills. Every evening Kyminn would check with the local wild life and have one of the dogs circle the perimeter of the camp. Between Kyminn, the dogs, the Companions and the Herald's mindspeech, the camp was as secure as it could possibly get for the conditions. Given that they did carry some coin, as well having a number of valuable beasts, the group didn't stint on night watches either.

 _SCENE BREAK_

 _:Brother. We have company.:_ Derris' voice sounded more annoyed than concerned.

"What kind of company?" Randen reached for his bow.

 _:Some young men from that town we passed through this morning. I believe they mean to rob us. There are nine of them.:_

"And six of us. Nine if we count the dogs." Randen gave Allek a nudge with mindspeech and told him to wake the others.

 _:Doesn't seem fair.:_ Derris offered helpfully.

"They are trying to rob us. I have absolutely no intention whatsoever of being fair," Randen growled. "Where are they now?"

 _:They are walking in the woods along the road. The plan is to come at you in a semi-circle. They think there is enough moon that they can shoot the dogs first. After that, they plan to fire the wagon and drive off the horses. They don't plan to hurt anyone, they just want the money.:_ Derris paused. _:I don't think they're very good at this._ :

"Good or not, they are planning on setting fire to a wagon with people sleeping in it. That makes them both stupid _and_ dangerous in my book." Randen looked at the others, silent shadows slipping up beside him. In low tones – he knew that whispers carry – he explained the situation and his plan for dealing with it.

"I'll give you a few minutes to get into position. Nikki, do you think Hugo will cooperate?"

She nodded. "He'll follow me, he trusts me. He wouldn't want to be _ridden_ through the woods at night, but he'll follow me if I stick to open areas."

"Good. Kyminn will check with Hugo to see when you're in position. Kyminn, you're the person who can communicate with most of us involved. Derris and Jareth will 'listen' for you. Everyone set?" Three nods, a gesture and the group slipped into the woods.

In spite of their size, it turned out that a mastiff could be an astonishingly quiet creature. It helped too that human eyes were guiding the animal, carefully selecting a protected spot just a few feet behind where the leader of the attackers crouched.

It also turned out that when 150 pounds of mastiff produces an ugly, basso growl at a person from bare feet away in the darkness, it has a withering effect on a person's nerve. Combine that with other growls nearby, the squeal and crash of angry warhorses and arrows thunking uncannily into the tree one is lurking behind…the effect was to shatter the nerve of the would-be thieves. To a man, they broke and ran, more than one of them having soiled his breeks at the first growl.

The Companions, playing the part of "angry warhorse" to the hilt, remained out of view, carefully screened lest one of the thieves have a sudden fit of courage and attempt to shoot their attackers. The dogs bayed and howled, herding the group and driving them through the forest. The group, instead of gloating over their ill-gotten gold, found themselves, exhausted and terrified, up to their waists in a swamp. At a word from Randen, their remaining weapons dropped in unison, most having already been abandoned in their flight through the woods.

Most of the rest of the night was spent in waiting. Allek and Jareth escorted Nikki and Hugo back to the village, the horse being more willing to attempt the night time road under the direction of a Companion than solely a rider. As they approached the village, Jareth peeled away, it being rather hard to hide Jareth's nature when he glowed in the dark.

The grim constable and two deputized locals took charge of the soggy miscreants. They had been allowed to withdraw from the swamp, Kyminn having been concerned they would suffer hypothermia in the frigid water. The disconsolate group, now cold and sober, sat huddled on the shoreline, flinching whenever one of the dogs twitched or sniffed. The constable, along with the deputies and two other witnesses from the village were shown where the group had entered the woods, where they had hidden, and their weapons. The nine youths didn't bother to dissemble and resignedly provided statements in front of the witnesses. Randen produced written statements from himself, Allek and Kyminn, each of them swearing in front of the witnesses as to the veracity of what they had written. Given the confessions, it was decided there was enough evidence to present when the magistrate arrived the next day and the group was allowed to depart.

"What will happen to them?" Kyminn asked from the wagon seat.

"There is more than enough evidence, along with their witnessed word, to convict them all. This isn't a matter that would be held over until the next time a Herald visits. They're lucky no one got hurt, but what they tried to do was dangerous and stupid. I would expect they will spend the next two or three moons at hard labour, at the very minimum. It's really our approach to justice in this kingdom – try to make the punishment fit the crime and have the criminal do something to benefit society instead of harming it."

And Kyminn had to be content with that.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Word of the episode must have spread, for they had no more trouble on the road from village toughs looking to garner some easy coin. It didn't prevent the occasional boorish person from making snide comments about Randen's disability, but the truly unsavory sorts left them strictly alone.

Their next stop at a Guard post confirmed the rumour that the group had all received sentences of hard labour, ranging from six moons for the followers-on to a full year for the two ringleaders. Those two worthies had apparently tried to appeal their initial, more lenient sentences, only to let it slip that this was not their first foray into banditry. At least one previous attempt had been equally unsuccessful. On learning this, Nikki grimly predicted that, unless the two developed an aptitude for either learning or honest labour within the next year, their lives would be brutal and short.

Kyminn tried to feel sorry for the men, and at first he was troubled by the fact that he wasn't more disturbed by the idea of their probable fate. Had he really grown so cold in so short a time? He was, after all, a Healer. Shouldn't this bother him some more? In a strange way, Kyminn found himself missing Jareth's pithy nagging of the summer before and the Companion's ability to force Kyminn to examine his own prejudices. Kyminn startled all of them with a sudden bark of laughter.

"What's so funny?" Randen cocked an eye from his seat on the wagon bench. While Allek occasionally rode a horse as part of his role as bodyguard, Randen rode only Derris. A horse was simply incapable of adjusting to Randen's balance in the way a Companion could. That meant that whenever there was a chance they might encounter others, Randen drove - or rode on - the wagon.

Kyminn eased Max up beside the wagon, the stolid grey easily keeping pace with the lumbering wagon. "I was actually thinking that I was missing Jareth's nagging."

Randen laughed. "You're probably the first person in the history of Valdemar to complain of missing being lectured by a Companion!"

Kyminn never found out what Derris' response to his Herald's comment was, but judging from the way Randen was convulsed on the seat, _giggling_ in a decidedly un-Heraldlike manner, it had been deeply sarcastic, insulting and quite possibly physiologically impossible. The Healer waited until Randen managed to catch his breath before continuing his explanation.

"I was thinking of those two fellows, the ringleaders, and how Nikki was saying they'd probably come to a bad end. It occurred to me that it ought to bother me, the prospect that they might die at the end of all this." Kyminn sounded pensive.

"Okay, but I don't quite see what Jareth has to do with this?" Derris slipped out of the woods, taking up station on the other side of the wagon. Clearly he was as interested as his Herald in what Kyminn was trying to say.

"Just that last year, whenever I got myself all turned around, it always seemed like Jareth was there with an observation or a comment. It just seemed strange not to have him interject this time." A twisted smile.

"Did you maybe think that this time you don't really need him?" It was thoughtful, as Randen searched for the right words. "Last year…you weren't as sure of yourself. You were making a lot of big decisions that affected quite a few people. I think maybe last year you benefited from another perspective."

"And now?" Kyminn was curious.

A shrug. "Now…you're more your own man. I sometimes wonder if Heralds don't rely a bit too much on our Companions as a conscience. Everyone else has to figure things out on their own. Seems almost unfair, in a way."

Kyminn shook his head in disagreement with that last. "Not unfair at all. Everyone chooses, including Heralds. It's just that your consciences are generally more reliable and immediate than other peoples'."

Derris pretended to look insulted at the "generally" part of the statement, but ended up shrugging in agreement. Randen, perhaps unaware of Derris's expression, gave an almost identical shrug.

"Okay, so back to Jareth and these two criminals. Still unsure?" The Herald seemed quite prepared to listen as long as Kyminn needed to talk.

"No. Not unsure." Kyminn surprised Randen with the quick certainty of his response. "Thinking about what Jareth would have had to say made me give my head a bit of a shake." He gestured up ahead, to where Jareth lurked, unseen in the woods, scouting the path ahead. "It's not my responsibility to feel sorry for those men. They made stupid, stupid choices and did something dangerous and idiotic. For a second time, yet. I didn't cause it, I can't change it and I can't control it. They need to accept the consequences of their actions. We have been as just as we possibly could. The rest is on them and _I_ don't need to feel guilty about it." Kyminn held up a hand to forestall comment. "That doesn't mean I'll be happy to see them hang. If it comes to that, it would be a dreadful waste of what could have been two productive lives. I'll feel about that aspect of it, but not the rest.

"Randen, there's probably going to be a war with Karse by next summer. The four of us all know it, the Circle knows it. _We_ ," his gesture took in more than their small group, it encompassed their entire region, "Are doing our best to either prevent it or help as many people as we can. We've helped those two as much as we were able. I'm not going to give up trying to help hundreds in order to save two."

 _SCENE BREAK_

Days turned to sennights turned to moons. Summer edged towards its peak and then began the slow slide towards autumn. The four of them bought horses, walked mile after dusty mile, listened and worried. Small dribbles of whispers of stories, threads sent back to the capital, there to be stitched into an alarming quilt.

Karse, ever closed to Valdemaran traders, tightened their borders still further. Farmers spoke of foreign traders, men offering to buy up seed grain and then asking too many questions about the harvest to come. The border, always porous where bandits were concerned, grew oddly lopsided as bandits who were accustomed to slipping back into Karse to evade Valdemaran retribution suddenly found those tracks closed to them. Guardsmen and villagers alike complained that those same bandits were bolder, more desperate, digging even deeper into the flanks of Valdemar than ever before. The foursome increased their watchfulness, waiting, wondering.

 _:Kyminn.:_ That was all. Just a single word from Jareth. Kyminn, seeming to be dozing aback the bay horse, dropped his shields and _reached_. On the road, Skip, the blue dog, began to chase his tail, a signal to all to be alert. The dog leapt onto the wagon seat, nudging Randen's arm. The Herald responded to the animal's overtures, a stroking hand sliding into the shadows to uncover the strung bow.

The dog continued to nudge the Herald, six times. Seven. After the eleventh nudge, the dog sighed and flopped down on the bench, his eyes fixed on a copse of trees just up the road. Silent signals, well rehearsed, loosened swords and settled riders deeper into their seats. The two mastiffs wove their way through the legs of the horses following, slinking into the bushes beside the road.

"Hai!" Kyminn's shouted warning that hidden archers had released their flight gave the others enough time to twist aside. The bandits, counting on surprise and that first, critical volley, had expected find themselves facing an unprepared, confused and terrified foe. Instead, the would-be victims split aside and instead of fleeing, swung around to carry the fight to their attackers.

Still, the odds heavily favoured the bandits. And although the bandits' armour consisted of poor and broken cast offs, most were wearing more armour than the party of travelers. The boldness of the defenders caused the bandits to pause for a moment, but was not enough to deter them.

The four bowmen, surprised at the initial failure of their first shots to strike any targets, nonetheless took advantage of the range to fire again. Or at least, they tried. Allek's Fetching gift wasn't especially strong, but he and Randen had practiced. Randen's Farsight told Allek where the bowmen were, and Allek's Fetching gift was enough to stir dust, leaves and twigs into the faces of the bowmen, making it impossible for them to aim. Of the four, only one got off a second shot.

The remaining seven attackers broke onto the road, three on horseback from one side of the track, the four on foot from the other. Allek abandoned the bowmen, leaving them to claw grit out of their eyes. He focused his attention next on the trailing string of horses, using his Gift to tug loose the quick-release knots on their halters. Jareth, for his part, was free to focus _all_ his own attention on the attackers. He managed to pound one of them into mud while his rider was still untying horses.

Derris charged through the three horsemen, his leap off the bank taking him over one of the riders. The bandit had the presence of mind to duck when something _huge_ and _fast_ came at his head, but the flying kick that shattered his spine ended the battle for him instantly. Derris eeled up beside the wagon, not even pausing when Randen leapt off the bench. Without the thrust of a second leg, it was more of a controlled fall than a leap, but somehow, Derris' saddle was underneath Randen at the exact moment required.

Kyminn was the sole member of the foursome who did not charge the foe. Instead, he put his back to the side of the wagon and _reached_ again. The wagon team, driverless, froze in place instead of fleeing. Heads tossed and eyes rolled, but they stayed. The six untied horses turned in uncanny unison, and as a line, charged the bandits attacking from on foot.

Nikki and Hugo found themselves facing the two remaining mounted fighters. Shocked at the turn their attack had taken, the two split, trying to divide her attention, snarling their hate as they drove towards her.

Nikki parried the first easily, a touch of her knee signaling Hugo to lash out at the horse coming up on his off side. The massive warhorse gladly complied and the attacker veered away from the blow. The two bandits had not been trained in fighting as a team. Had they done so, they might have succeeded in overwhelming their opponent. Instead, they fought with desperate savagery, unwilling to lose, unable to overcome.

The bowmen never got the chance to attempt a third shot. The two mastiffs, sent by Kyminn, succeeded in savaging two of their number before the bowmen even knew the dogs were there. Their fellows pulled out their own swords, hacking at the snarling dogs. The dogs withdrew just out of sword reach, both of them bleeding freely from the bowmen's frantic slashes. Canine snarls matched Karsite curses, growl for growl.

Kyminn didn't attempt to retain control of the horse string. He'd sent them at the foot borne bandits more of a distraction than an attack and had, in fact, succeeded in forcing the group apart. He then turned his attention to the two mounted opponents. His Foresight caused him to retch a little, but he did it anyway. A twist of his Healing gift and one of the horses went down, muscles suddenly gone limp. When he felt the beast's leg snap as it struck the ground, this time he did surrender his stomach.

Nikki's next blow took advantage of her foe's momentary startlement at seeing his fellow's horse collapse, biting deep into his chest and ending his surprise forever. The bandit on the ground had been unable to roll clear when his horse fell. Tangled in the saddle, he lay twisted, sword cast aside in surrender.

The three remaining opponents, having expected that their numbers would give them a fairly easy victory, had initially attacked the two Heralds with confidence. Possibly they hadn't realized what the Companions were in terms of opponents, or possibly they had and believed they had no options when facing 'White Demons'. In any case, they fought to the last man, refusing to throw down their weapons even when called on to do so.

The two remaining bowmen surrendered to Kyminn. Bound and disarmed, they nonetheless tried to flee when they encountered the Companions. Somewhat disgusted, Nikki trussed the two up with hobbles, finally gagging them when they started ranting in Karsite.

Of the eleven attackers, five survived. The two bowmen were unhurt and the fallen rider had suffered only a broken arm. The rider with the smashed spine was, against all odds, still alive but not expected to survive past the next few hours. The other survivor was one of the bowmen, both arms torn open by one of the mastiffs.

Of the defenders, only Kyminn was unmarked. Nikki was bleeding freely from a deep slash down the back of one shoulder while both Allek and Randen had numerous cuts and bruises. Derris had a deep bruise where a sword had struck his saddle. Had Randen still had his right leg, the blow would probably have severed it. Instead, the sword had bit deep into the saddle pad, nearly cracking one of the Companion's ribs.

The last, desperate shot of the bowmen had actually found a mark, with Hugo limping from the arrow buried deep in his haunch. All three dogs were also injured, with one of the mastiffs having lost part of an ear.

It was a long night for all of them. Both of the two badly injured Karsites died during the night, in spite of Kyminn's best efforts. The remainder of the Karsite horses were located, hidden in a nearby thicket. In spite of the fact it was late summer with plenty of grazing, the beasts were still scrawny and scrubby, raw with sores and mistreatment. The horse with the broken leg was put down, with Kyminn gratefully accepting Randen's offer to help bolster his shields while Nikki took care of the unenviable task. He'd known the horse was going to die, known it even before he reached out with his Gift during the battle. But with its rider about to drive a sword through Nikki's back, he'd had to choose. He'd had plenty of time to learn that sometimes, there was no good choice.

Near dawn, Allek and Jareth left to find the Guard. Although Allek was still a Heraldic trainee and not in uniform, Jareth himself was all the credentials required. The remainder stayed where they were, Derris and Hugo not yet being Healed enough for the rigors of travel.

Allek returned three days later with a squad of Guardsmen and a Healer. Among the group were two Guardsmen who spoke Karsite. Finally able to question their captives with something more than pidgin trade tongue, Randen wasted no time invoking the Truth Spell. What the captives revealed was worrying.

Karse was systematically withdrawing its populace from the area immediately around the border. By winter the area would be largely empty. _Something_ , or _someone_ , the men weren't sure, would be moving into that area. The men had heard rumours, most involving an unknown mercenary force, one the bandits had no desire to mix with.

As for the attack on the group, the reasons were complex. The group was openly buying animals for resale to the crown of Valdemar. In Karse, any group buying or selling to the army would be doing so with the consent of the priests. It went without saying that any group dealing with the army or priests would also be spying for them as well. The bandits had seen the capture of the group as a way to buy their way back home to Karse. They preferred to take their chances at home, taking steps to avoid whatever was to come, rather than trying to remain in Valdemar. The bandits had, in fact, already approached the Karsites and had received a conditional promise to 'consider the request' once the 'spies' had been delivered. A substantial bounty had also been obliquely suggested, along with a pointed reminder that the Karsites didn't particularly care _which_ group of Karsites delivered the spies, so long as they were delivered. First come, first served as it were.

"Well." Nikki gave a _whuff_ of shock. "That tears it. Herald Randen," she used his formal address for the first time in months, "Given this, I don't see us being able to effectively carry out the current mission. I formally suggest that we request additional instructions."

"Heralds are supposed to rely on their own judgement." Randen took a deep breath. "But given that our work was supposed to be discreet and it is now anything _but_ discreet…I think you're right. I think we need to reconsider."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The team used the next few days as an opportunity to recover from their injuries and decide on the best course of action. The options seemed to boil down to three: carry on as before, carry on with some kind of modification, or return to the capital.

"The question is," Kyminn reflected, "What, exactly, is our primary duty? Is it to strengthen the Guard or collect information? I admit, it makes me uncomfortable to know that our own people think we were spying on them."

"We were never spying on anyone, Kyminn. That aspect of it is purely a Karsite fabrication. Were we collecting information? Of course. But we weren't collecting _secrets._ We weren't trying to catch anyone out. There's a big difference." Randen played with his glass of ale, drawing small rings on the tabletop. They had moved back to the local Guard station and were settled in a corner of the dining hall, discussing the situation.

"Trying to figure out the big picture is always complicated. Everyone has an agenda, or a bias, and you have to weigh that. By just listening anonymously, we can sift through a lot of that. No one is trying to put on their best face for the Herald, or try to prove they're tougher than the Guardswoman." The damp rings formed a daisy chain, marching back and forth in front of the Herald. "In times like this, we need all the information we can get and usually it's information that people don't realize is important."

"When someone's neighbor manages to sell a load of wool to a passing trader instead of having to send it on to the next town or city, that's a reason to celebrate over a glass of beer. It's not something you'd bother to tell the Guard or a Herald, it's not _news."_ Nikki broke in. "But when we collect all these small bits of not-news, we see a pattern emerging. All these things are items that can stockpile easily, goods you might need if you thought a region might be less productive in the near future."

"Also," Allek was quiet, "Everything we've seen is war materiel, but nothing obvious. No iron or coal, no finished weapons. Not even seasoned hardwoods for spears and arrows. All of it is raw materials, things easy to explain away."

"I have to admit," Randen grunted, "It's very subtle. Not enough to get people talking from village to village and not enough being siphoned off that it would make a noticeable shortage to the market overall. Just a small, very local swell of demand. And, as far as we know, it's only here, along this southern border."

"And no one, absolutely no one," Nikki was sour, "will admit that the final destination is Karse. Some of the goods we've tracked have changed hands two or more times, and only the last buyer knew where the stuff was going. Most of the brokers were perfectly honest traders, enjoying having made a slightly-better-than-usual deal."

"I would be willing to wager that by the time the fall beast fairs are done, the locals price of cattle will have gone up noticeably." Kyminn was thoughtful.

"I won't take that bet. Derris has been listening to the stable-hands. People are already starting to talk about the good price they're seeing for beef." Randen saluted the Healer and savored a mouthful of ale.

"I must admit," Nikki said ruefully, "I certainly didn't expect the Karsites."

" _Nobody_ expects the Karsites!" The ale glass hit the table with a dull thump. " _That_ was just a bizarre complication. Gads! I mean, every Valdemaran knows that a traveler is going to carry news from village to village, and if anything seems important, it will get mentioned to the Guard. That is _not_ spying. We are at least three days from the border, so it's certainly not like we can be thought to be spying on _Karse_!" He raked his hands through his hair in frustration, scattering the trim, black waves.

The Herald was in full rant mode. "Because, obviously, if we are travelling, and talking to people, and talking to the Guard, we _must_ be spies. Spying on _our own people_. Which hurts Karse _how_ exactly? Because, you know, _Valdemaran_ spies, inside _Valdemar_ , spying on _Valdermarans_ makes just NO sense! It makes even LESS sense that Karse would even _care_ , much less put a _bounty_ on us! Those people are _INSANE!_ "

"Not insane," Nikki objected, "Just Karsite. And that, my friend, is a completely different colour of horse indeed. I've been talking to the local commander and he's had quite a lot to say about the folks from the south."

"Like they're all mad?" Randen growled, but subsided. He waved a hand for Nikki to continue.

"Here in Valdemar, we're used to rulers that respond to the people, that write down and communicate laws and go to great lengths to make sure the people are educated, aware and feel like they are being justly governed. You know as well as I do that Karse's government rules in name only, that all the power rests in the hands of the priests. Have you ever really thought about what that means to the people on a day to day basis?"

The other three shrugged. "I always figured it meant you had two sets of rules to worry about," Allek spoke up. "One was the laws of the king, the other their writ. I always pitied them, because I can figure out what happens to the poor fellow who gets caught between the two, or with an unscrupulous priest who picks only certain parts of writ to follow."

She nodded. "That's part of it, but it goes much, much deeper than that. You know the nursery song that goes _'_ _Hush little baby, don't you cry, angel's going to be here by and by'_?"

"Sure," Allek was puzzled. "Everybody knows that one:

 _"_ _Hush little baby, don't you cry_

 _Angel's going to be here by and by._

 _Sweet little baby, when you sing,_

 _Angel's going to give you a shiny ring._

 _Sleep little baby, don't you cry,_

 _Angels protect you all the night."_

"Yes, well, if a Sunpriest caught you singing that, both you _and_ your bairn would probably be sent to the Fires."

Three jaws dropped. "What?!" "That's obscene!" "Whyever for?" Voices bounced off each other as the three cried out their shock.

"Because, first of all, there are no angels in the writ. Demons, cats and other manifestations yes, angels no. So that right there denies writ and is blasphemy. Secondly, even if there were angels, all good things come straight from Vakandis. So any other supernatural source of gifts, or protection, is anathema." She leaned forward, her face intent.

"Try and picture growing up where every song, every story, every folk tale you ever heard comes from just one source. Every child's game or innocent little ditty _must_ conform to the writ, and everyone around you is so steeped in it that if you deviate even a little bit, _everyone_ notices. Now factor in that any such deviation is punished by losing your home, your livelihood, your family or even your life – and that in some absolutely horrifying ways. Is it any wonder that those bandits had every reason to believe that every single word we heard would be reported back to those in power? It's the only thing they _could_ think – it's all they've ever known."

Kyminn shook his head slowly, "That's…hard to imagine. Logical, when you explain it like that, but it's hard to picture living like that. We'd probably be guilty of some kind of accidental blasphemy just by opening our mouths."

She nodded. "Exactly. Which is why we were not sent _inside_ Karse. But back to those bandits – they assumed that we would know all kinds of things about what people were thinking and doing: like if they were dissatisfied with the capital, that their neighbor was acting strangely...maybe even we'd know troop movements. There was also a chance that, us being spies and all, we might actually _be_ spying on Karse, or _trying_ to spy on Karse. So there would have been value in trying to figure out how much about them we actually know – or thought we knew."

"I agree that it makes sense," Randen sighed. "It also means that any bandits in the area are sure that we're a big, fat prize, redeemable for either a trip back to Karse or enough gold to retire. I don't know that there's much else we can accomplish, this close to the border. If we go on as we are, we're just going to make bigger targets of ourselves."

"Well," Allek said slowly, "what about doing just that? Making targets of ourselves?" He looked at each of the others. "I mean, everyone in this village knows that Randen and I are Heralds, even if they aren't sure what exactly you two are. I don't think we can exactly go back to traveling incognito at this point. We could just carry on, only this time as ourselves."

"Which, in turn, leads one to ask – would that be the best use of a pair of Heralds?" Randen countered. "It was one thing when we were responsible for sifting through all the intelligence and figuring out what leads to pursue. Once we start working openly as Heralds, we lose any chance of getting that kind of information. Brokering and training horses for the army is valuable, but – at this point, probably not the best use of resources."

Kyminn gave his cousin an apologetic glance. "I have to agree with Randen on that score. There's a lot of people who could do that part of it. I happen to be particularly good at it and I certainly can't do it alone, but there's hundreds of capable, talented people that could help me. There's only so many Heralds – or, might I add, cavalry officers." He cocked his head at Nikki.

A decisive nod. "True enough. Kyminn certainly doesn't need me for this and I have a very strong suspicion that if I wasn't already going to be recalled soon, I will be once this all comes out." The idea of returning to her army duties appealed to Nikki, especially in light of all they had learned.

"We were expecting to start back in by the end of this month anyway," Randen pointed out. "I think we should plan on starting back now, instead. I'll make sure the appropriate messages get sent and I'll let them know our planned route. That way, our new orders will be sure to catch up with us. Having said that, there's no reason we can't continue to look at stock on our way back. As far as the circle still knows, Allek and I won't be back until just before winter. Once they find out what's happened, Talamir and the dean might have something else for us to do, but in the meantime, we may as well make the most of it and accomplish as much as possible."

 _SCENE BREAK_

At the Guard commander's insistence, a squad of half a dozen Guardsmen accompanied them as far as the next large village. At that point, it had been judged, they were far enough from the border that encountering any further Karsite bounty-hunters was considered unlikely.

Allek and Randen, for the first time since their departure, travelled openly as Heralds. Allek's travel Grays had been used so little that they looked odd at first, at least until he'd had a chance to break them in somewhat. As for Jareth, he was positively delighted at having exclusive rights to his Chosen for once and practically danced under the saddle for the first few days.

The courier caught up to them about a fortnight later. In addition to various official documents, she carried a few pieces of personal mail as well. Kyminn was bemused to find letters from his family, dated from back in early spring. He wondered just how far those bits of paper had travelled in order to catch up with him. Reading them, it was oddly disjointing to hear of events long past, from people he hadn't seen in nearly a year and a half. It seemed so dear, yet so distant at the same time. Still, he folded them up carefully and tucked them aside, to treasure again later. Guiltily, he vowed to at least _attempt_ to write his mother more often.

Randen, Allek and the courier spent quite a long time alone in the wagon, reviewing the various reports and preparing the most recent summaries. The other two joined them for dinner, the unspoken understanding being that business would wait until after the meal.

At last, bellies full and curiosity whetted, the five of them squeezed in around the small table.

Randen didn't mince words. "The circle has confirmed that Karse has hired the Tedrel mercenaries as a fighting force, with an eye to attacking us sometime early next year."

A small wave of his hand for attention, and Kyminn said, "We heard rumours of a mercenary force, but I've never heard of these 'Tedrels'. Who are they?"

"Partly a who, partly a what." The courier was a slim, hawk faced woman, her jaw set in a grim line as she explained. "It was described to me like this: first you have Guild mercenaries, then you have non-guild mercenaries. After that you get random sell swords, armed scum, random bandits, and Tedrel mercenaries – in that order. The Tedrels hire for money, but they fight for land. It's their belief that it is their destiny to fight for others until they buy, conquer or are granted – and they don't care which – their own country. Karse has offered them a homeland. Ours."

Kyminn's guts turned to ice. All of a sudden, the letter he'd received from Talamir made a horrible kind of sense.

"As near as we can tell, it's Karse's intention to let the Tedrels wipe out the entire nation of Valdemar and then let the Tedrels have it." Her voice was cold with loathing. "Talamir told me that you all knew we expected war. I should tell you that this last part is not yet public knowledge and is not to become so." She pinned Nikki and Kyminn with her stare. "I profoundly hope he has not misjudged you both."

A slow shake of his head was Kyminn's only response. Arguing with the Herald would be pointless and timewasting. The only proof he had of his integrity would be his actions.

Randen took up the thread of the conversation again. "This news – along with our own complication on the border – means a change in our plans. Allek and I," he nodded to the trainee, "have been instructed to return to the capital as soon as possible. That means, at Companion speed I'm afraid. I'm to be reassigned, but I don't know where yet. Allek here is going into Whites as soon as we get back."

 _That_ news startled all of them, most especially Allek. "But…I still don't know how to be a field Herald! I don't know anything about mediating disputes, or magistrates appeals or anything like that!"

"Which is why you'll be assigned to a field Herald and leave immediately on your internship. The dean has decided – with my recommendation – that you have enough experience and background knowledge to be able to cope. To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me to find you serve a rather short internship, depending on what happens next spring."

Allek snapped his mouth shut and looked dazed. Jareth must have been giving him an earful too, for the trainee finally grimaced, shook his head and looked pensive.

"As you might expect, I've been recalled." Nikki's news surprised no one. "There's a Guard cavalry post in the Jaysong hills, just outside the Holderkin lands. I'm to report there 'with all dispatch'."

The four of them turned as one to regard Kyminn, the only one not a servant of the crown and, as a Healer, free to choose his own road.

He took a deep breath, one hand resting on Talamir's letter. "I have received a very flattering…note… from Herald Talamir. It seems that he and Dean Tannel of Healers would like me to formalize the current arrangement as their agent. I would work for the Healer's Hall, with the understanding that they – or the Heraldic circle – will assign me where needed. For the near future, that means a posting to the Guard training fort at Warford for at least the next several months. I would serve as one of their Healers, in addition to helping train the cavalry animals. It would also mean," and his voice grew quiet, "That I will be accompanying them when they are deployed next spring."

His words echoed in the cool evening silence. "I'm going to accept."


	39. Chapter 39

_Author's Afterward_

 _This story began in my head a couple of years ago. For the longest time, it incubated. It was SUPPOSED to be an anthology-length short story: young Healer meets and helps Herald. It was planned as a brief exploration of one aspect of Valdemaran life, seen from the perspective of one of the many people that Heralds encounter._

 _As you've noticed by now, things didn't go as planned. Four months and 80,000+ words later, I've discovered that I've written a novel-length tale. Characters appeared and behaved in ways unexpected (hello Jareth, Delassia!) while Kyminn himself became a man of many parts._

 _You, the readers, have improved this story. Not only did you keep me honest and true to canon, you asked questions and offered feedback that helped me move the story along. For that, you have my profound gratitude._

 _About three chapters ago, I had the ending of the story all planned out and I was ready to wrap up Kyminn's tale. I even wrote the last line of the most recent chapter "_ His words echoed in the cool evening silence. "I'm going to accept" _with my planned ending in mind._

 _And then two things happened._

 _First, Borys said simply "_ And so it begins _."_

 _Second, reader hornbugv said "_ I'm looking forward toward the next road traveled."

 _Those two small comments brought me up short. That sentence WAS an ending. It was also a beginning. I had an image of a young man, on a grey horse, under an autumn sky. He's looking at Guard post and he is about to start a whole new adventure._

 _Kyminn has come a long way. He has learned, changed, grown and overcome. The road has brought him to this point – from a Healer reluctant to leave his village to a young man who has firmly set his feet on his life's path. Now he has a whole new life ahead of him. There's a war coming and he's part of it._

 _Kyminn's Road has been decided. Now Kyminn's Journey begins._

 _Raelynn Daria Mayne_

 _**You may have noticed that I have taken down "Half a Healer". This is for a number of reasons. First, I am going to be focusing on Kyminn for the foreseeable future. I didn't want to leave the story half finished. I have a general sense of where it is going, but I can't say when I might get back to it. I would rather keep it for safe keeping rather than have it linger._

 _Don't worry, it's not completely gone, it's just hibernating._


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